In Too Deep
by Hanna Sedai
Summary: Robin's made plenty of bad choices, and Red X is perhaps the worst of all. But what if his first encounter with Slade had ended differently? What if Robin continued playing the part of Red X…even if it was against his will?
1. Masks

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Teen Titans.

**A/N: **Hello!

Aside from TBP (which, again I'm still working on!), this will be my next big project. This is one of the most requested fics, but I have refrained from putting the actual request in the story description so that it won't be spoiled for people who don't read my blog. People who know: please do not spoil it for other people.

For this fic I'm combining a couple of ideas into one. This will be told all in first-person POV because…well…let's just say that it'll be important to know what's going on in the character's heads. It's also another way to make this apprentice fic different from my other apprentice fics.

Other than that, I hope you guys enjoy this! Onward!

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><p><strong>Part 1<strong>

**Red X. Evil intentions. Chats with an assassin. **

**Separated from friends. **

**Silence.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Masks<strong>

**-DG- **

This was it.

I jumped quietly down into the room where the chip was being held. It had been easy enough getting past the guards. Truthfully, I surprised myself at how easy it had been. It was easier than dodging Ra's al Ghul's security guards, I can tell you.

_If Bruce knew about this…_

I mentally shook myself. This plan would work and Bruce would be none the wiser. Everything was going to work out. I wasn't stupid. I made sure that I cleaned up my trail. By the end of the night I would be back at the Tower with enough information to put Slade in jail. When the Titans eventually figured out that I was Red X then they would forgive me for lying to them once I caught Slade. At least I hoped that they would.

As I walked towards the end of the room, where the chip floated in midair, I remembered the many conversation we had before I undertook this latest mission. It had taken a lot of grueling undercover work juts to get Slade's contact information. The guy was pretty hard to find. Of course, the only leads I had were the words of the HIVE kids and the medallion that Slade left behind when he manipulated Thunder and Lightning. As I headed towards my target I thought back to our last conversation.

_I nearly sat on the edge of my seat, waiting somewhat nervously for Slade's response. Even through the webcam his face was still hidden in shadow. That still annoyed me. Of course, I didn't show my face either, so I suppose that we were square. _

_ For the past few nights Slade had been patient with me, slowly chiding me for mistakes like a child. Did he always talk that way to people? Was his ego so large that he always talked down to people? He seemed to be that kind of person. I didn't like it. Not one bit. A patient criminal was the one who would screw you up the most. _

_ "Impressive, Red X. I tapped the security cameras to catch your performance. You treated the Titans to quite a show." _

_ "Glad you enjoyed it. Is the audition over?" _

_ "Patience. Trust is easy to destroy, but takes time to build. One last test to prove yourself…and then we'll meet to discuss your future." _

_ He logged off and disappeared from the screen. His last sentence irritated me. Who was he to lecture? But it didn't matter. I wasn't going to listen to him or his lectures. This was just an act. Words and actions meant nothing unless my heart was into them. _

_"Good," I said, pulling Red X's mask off of my face, "it's about time we meet face-to-face."_

_ Later that evening I received an email with my instructions. I noted that all of the technology he wanted me to steal were compatible with one another, despite being made in different companies. Well, it was either that or they were easy for someone to modify. I would have to ask Cyborg. _

_ Once Slade gave me my assignment I didn't waste any time. Although I hated stealing I knew that it had to be done to gain Slade's trust. I immediately made a plan of action. I ignored the little voice in my head telling me that this was a stupid idea and figured out how to do it. _

And now here I was, turning my back on everything Batman taught me for the sake of justice. How ironic. If I were younger then I would have cracked a bad pun about it. But now wasn't the time for that. I wasn't a kid anymore. I can take care of myself.

This was the culmination of many weeks of work. After all of this time I would finally find out what Slade was up to. I had so many questions to ask him once I gained his trust. Was he the one who ordered Cinderblock to release Plasmus? If we hadn't foiled his plan, then what would he have done? Why did he hire the HIVE kids to take us down? I didn't know, but at least tonight I would begin to get some answers.

I reached out to take the floating green computer chip.

"Excellent work. Honestly, I couldn't have done better myself."

I gripped the chip tightly in my gloved hand and turned around. A figure appeared from the shadows. I recognized his profile from our many webcam conversations, but this was the first time I saw Slade in person. The mask hid my surprise. He had followed me here? Probably. Disregarding this, I turned to face him and spoke with as much arrogance as I could.

"So, do we have a deal?"

Slade's mask was expressionless. I hadn't seen much of him in our conversations beforehand. Now that he was standing in the light I could see his full costume. He was a large man whose broad build reminded me somewhat of Bruce. It's strange how I keep comparing people to Bruce, but for some reason this guy reminded me of him. That feeling would only grow as time went on. I didn't notice this before, but Slade only had one eye. How strange.

His mask, though, was an enigma. It covered his entire face. The only part of him that expressed any sort of emotion was his eye. I knew at once that this was the sort of man one did not mess around with. Well, I could tell from my past conversations that he was like that, but seeing him in person made all of the difference. He held the air of a former military man. He was a no-nonsense kind of guy. All the more reason to exercise caution.

"Indeed. You and I are…so very much alike. It seems only natural that we should be partners."

Slade held out his hand. Instead of taking his hand, however, I held up the computer chips. I couldn't trust him quite yet. I didn't want to trust him. But still, I had this act to keep up. I couldn't stop now…not when I was so close to achieving my goal.

"What are these for? I need to know what we're planning…partner."

"Patience. You can't expect me to trust you with such sensitive information right away, can you…Robin?"

A net appeared out of nowhere and caught the computer chips. Slade's words caught me by surprise, so much that I could hardly speak. I barely made a move to retrieve the computer chips as I stood shock still, still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

_What? _

How on earth had I given myself away? The lights switched on. I tensed as hundreds of robots stormed into the room. I didn't have my friends with me. I felt the slightest hint of cold fear in my stomach as I assumed a fighting position.

I thought about pulling out my communicator and calling for help, but something held me back. For the past few weeks I had lied to all of them in order to get closer to Slade. It was the only way to approach an unapproachable man. They thought that I was back at the Tower doing research on Slade, not out here dressed as a villain and dealing with villains. While I could be sure that they would come to help me, a part of me dreaded the inevitable coldness and shouting matches that would occur between us.

I dreaded their reactions to my betrayal of trust.

"Now, really," Slade said, "there's no need to fight. We're only here to talk."

I had been led straight into a trap. How incredibly stupid of me. Yet as I stood there I knew that Slade was lying. From my experience criminals like Slade didn't just want to "talk." He didn't seriously expect me to come quietly, did he? If he intended to capture me here then I wasn't going to go down without a fight.

"When you have a hundred robots against me?" I asked. "How long were you waiting to ambush me?"

Slade stepped forward. I tensed automatically. Even though I knew that if I didn't have backup soon I would lose, I still prepared myself to fight. He adjusted one of his gloves calmly before turning his attention back to me.

"Honestly, did you expect your plan to work?" Slade asked, amusement evident in his voice. "Such childish optimism. Still, you tricked enough people to fool the press and your friends. You just failed to trick me."

Again, I wondered what I did wrong. While I hated that amused tone he used I knew that it was true. But if Slade figured it out then it was possible that someone else could. A shiver ran down my spine as I thought of all of the different possibilities. Other villains could have figured it out. The Titans could figure it out. Bruce could…

"You double-crossed me!" I shouted.

"Unfortunately, Robin, I expect everyone to double-cross me. I can't just trust anyone now, can I?" Slade asked. "You, on the other hand, are too quick to trust people. I'm sure your mentor would be disappointed."

"He has nothing to do with this," I spat. "I'm here to take you down, Slade."

I hated that jab at Batman. I hated when anyone made a jab about Batman. When I first moved to Jump City everyone always assumed that Batman was around town as well. I had to make it clear that I wasn't working with him anymore. Working with the Titans had helped…somewhat.

And as for that jab about trusting people…well, I trusted people more than Bruce did. Slade was also wrong: I wasn't _that _quick to trust people. Certainly, I thought him to be a man who kept his word. I guess I was at least wrong about that.

"As I am."

As I leapt towards him the Sladebots sprang into action. Even though I knew that it was a lost fight I fought anyway. A part of me wanted to see how long I would in this fight all by myself. Slade stood there as he watched his robots attack me.

The coward.

Did he really believe that he was that good? So good that he didn't even have to deal with me himself? However, he didn't leave. He just watched me fight them, not saying a word. The longer I fought the more I realized that I needed the Titans to back me up. After dodging a Sladebot I reached into my belt and pulled out my communicator.

Almost immediately it exploded in my hand. I dropped it in surprise before the sudden sparks could burn a hole in my glove. Slade, who had been standing there so passively before, had a gun out, its tip still smoking. I punched one of his Sladebots and turned towards him furiously.

"You won't—!"

Slade cut me off by firing the gun again. I stopped yelling to duck out of the way, rolling swiftly on the floor to avoid the bullet. He could easily gun me down, but why didn't he? Did he enjoy watching people suffer or what?

The fight didn't last much longer.

That was the beauty of an ambush, which unfortunately Slade pulled off quite well. He wasn't here for a fight. He was here to win in as fast as possible. One of the larger robots yanked me roughly backwards by my cape and caught me around the middle. I activated one of the weapons hidden in my glove designed to slice through metal. However, this plan was hastily remedied as the robot slammed me against a wall. Stars popped in front of my eyes as I hung limply in the robot's arms.

"Ah…" Slade said, finally speaking, "can't let you cheat now with your new toys now, can I?"

The blow made me discombobulated. I blinked several times to clear my hazy vision. The beginning pangs of a headache began to pound against the walls of my skull. I lifted my head and found Slade staring straight at my face. He reached out and took off my Red X mask. For a moment I thought I saw surprise in Slade's eye. He must not have expected me to be wearing my regular mask underneath my Red X one. Slade could have easily taken off my real mask right then and there, but he didn't. He studied my face with his single eye for a moment as I tried to squirm my way out of the robot's arms.

"Coward!" I shouted desperately. "Fight me!"

Slade ignored me, although I could tell that I was getting on his nerves. His single eye had narrowed and his stance suggested that he was ready to punch me. Good. I wanted to get on his nerves. Sometimes the only way to beat men like him was to get on his nerves. Once he began to get flustered then he would lose his cool. Bruce was like that.

"You're not going to get away with this!" I exclaimed. "The Titans will be here any minute!"

Surely the building's security would have picked up the fight by now. The others had to be on their way! I hoped that they would be on their way. For a few moments I allowed my desperation to overcome my fear of being discovered that I was Red X. Despite my fear of being discovered I wanted them to come and help me. We were a team, after all.

In that moment I realized that I was in over my head. I shouldn't have gone into this mission by myself. I should have told someone that I was going to face Slade alone. This was stupid. I walked right in here without thinking that Slade would be tracking me. I should have called my friends the moment I knew I was surrounded before Slade had the chance to destroy my communicator.

"I'm sure they will be," Slade replied, "which is why we have to leave now."

_Leave…now…? _

He reached into his utility belt and pulled out a piece of cloth. At first I thought he was going to gag me, but then I recognized the smell almost at once. I jerked my head backwards and held my breath, but it didn't do any good. Slade hit me across the face and I let go of the breath I was holding. He jammed the cloth right into my face, holding my head still with the same hand.

"Sorry, but I'd rather not hit you on the head," Slade said, "this is just assuming that you would prefer not to have a concussion…?"

"I'd prefer not to be knocked…out…" I was falling fast. My head fell forward onto my chest. "Screw…you…Slade…"

My words fell on deaf ears. As I begin to slip into unconsciousness I wished that my friends were here to help me. Even though I pushed them away to catch Slade I wanted them here now. Ever since my parents died I didn't want to be alone again. That was the worst feeling in the world. And if I had to deal with this monster alone…

"I know, Robin, but trust me: you'll wake up with a whole new perspective. This is just the beginning."

My flailing began to subside. It was no use struggling now. I inhaled too much of the stuff to even hope to regain consciousness. I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to deal with Slade when I woke up. However, even in those hazy moments between consciousness and unconsciousness I thought that Slade's words were…strange.

_What…does he mean by…th… ?_

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><p><strong>AN: **A bit shorter than my chapters usually are, but stuff will happen! Writing in first-person is a bit more of a challenge for me, but I'll make it work.

OMG, I just realized that I'm slipping back into my Stephen King writing mode. XD

Review!


	2. It Begins

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Teen Titans.

**A/N: **

Well, jeez, guys, I hope this is as good as Northern Star was. XD Sometimes I feel as though I won't be able to pull something like that off again LOL. But I'm gonna try!

Updating schedule: I'm gonna to try to get back into the once-a-week groove. I would say Fridays again, but let me get through a week of school (starts at the end of August for me) first to see if that would work. Argh, I don't want the schoolwork but dangit I'm ready to move back to school.

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><p>Chapter 2: It Begins<p>

**-SW- **

This was _my _city.

There is something thrilling about taking over a city. Of course, the city wasn't mine quite yet, but it would be soon. This was my city in the fact that I had total control of the criminal underground. I stood in front of the television screens with my hands behind my back, silently watching the security cameras I placed all around the sleeping city.

The gears clicked incessantly around me. While the noise could drive some people to madness (the HIVE Headmistress didn't quite like my choice in décor) I found the noise soothing. It was better than listening to the bad memories that threatened to play restlessly in my head.

I looked up when my Sladebots entered the room. I gestured mutely to the other side of the room, not even bothering to watch my Sladebots dump Robin unceremoniously onto the ground. For the time being, I was going to ignore him. Until he woke up I had no interest in dealing with him. I would use the time that I had to put my plans into action.

William Wintergreen, an old British butler and a good friend of mine, walked into the room. He was a former soldier getting along in years, but ever since I saved him from the Vietnam prison camps he's been by my side ever since. He glanced down at Robin and then back to me.

"So you were correct, then, Sir."

"I usually am."

"If you truly intend to take him on as your student, then I suggest that you treat him with a bit more dignity," Wintergreen said. "Don't restrain him. It'll make him nervous."

Yes, I could have had the Sladebots dump him somewhere softer, but he would be fine. He's handled much worse than this. Besides, there were certain lessons that I wanted to pound into his head before I do anything else.

"I need him to listen to me, Will," I replied. "I don't like it either, but he won't listen unless he has no other choice. Once he understands the ground rules then I'll let him go."

Wintergreen raised his eyebrows but said nothing. It didn't take a genius to tell that he disagreed with me. While I understood that he didn't actually care for the boy yet I knew that he was merely offering advice to help me achieve my goal. It was good advice. But once the boy started treating me with respect then I would treat him with respect. Simple as that.

"I'm not going to torture the boy," I said. I didn't know if I felt affronted or not at Wintergreen's silence. "Relax."

He continued to stare at me with that expression of slight disapproval. But, like always, I ignored it. Wintergreen knew all about my profession. He knew that I did worse than torture people on a daily basis. I kill for money. After all, I am a professional assassin. It's part of the job description. Will, however, was a different matter. After being a prisoner-of-war in Vietnam…I understood why he didn't like this arrangement.

"I am still of the opinion that you should have chosen a _willing _apprentice," he said coolly. "This boy will bring you trouble, I guarantee it. His disappearance will not go unnoticed for long. Eventually the Titans _and _the Justice League will come after you."

"If the Titans or the Justice League make any move to find him then we'll move. I won't let him leave until I can trust him to run errands."

_Under my supervision, of course, _I thought dryly. While I wished that I could trust him now I knew that it wouldn't be possible. I couldn't trust and I knew that he couldn't trust me either. Yet.

"I'm just saying that if it comes to a standoff, will you be able to handle the wrath of the entire Justice League by yourself?"

"Is that even a question?" I snapped back. "I've already taken precautionary measures against the kid's guardian and the Justice League. The Titans won't be a problem."

Almost at once I felt sorry for snapping at him, but I didn't apologize. On his part, Wintergreen accepted the verbal abuse without comment. If that had been Adeline I had yelled at, I might have gotten a punch to the face.

_Or another bullet to the eye. _

"I was merely being curious, Sir."

Without another word to me he continued to clean the room, rubbing the dust from the computer screens with perhaps a tad more aggression than he normally employed. I looked away. Will and I would always have our disagreements, but he always sided with me. But no matter…I had other things to worry about now.

When I first realized that he was Red X I felt a tad bit annoyed. At first I thought of Red X as nothing but a common thief. A wild card who would do anything for the now, and a cleverly dangerous one at that. He put most of the HIVE graduates to shame. While I didn't feel threatened I knew that, if Red X had been a genuine thief, I would eventually have to take him down.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I discovered that Robin was the one hiding under the mask. He made several mistakes that allowed me to deduce that it was him. His tenacity, however, impressed me. I would have never expected the Dark Knight's protégée to go to such lengths to bring me to justice.

I smirked to myself.

I half-expected his friends to barge in on us like the nosy little brats that they are, but they hadn't shown up. Robin must have hidden his footprints well to make sure that they wouldn't follow him. If they had shown up then I would have waited to meet Robin some other time. I was a patient man. I could wait. If I had been forced to wait then I could have observed Robin for a little longer. Make sure that I made the right choice…

_No, _I thought, _I made the right choice. I can't second guess myself. _

I switched the video cameras. The screens flickered from footage of the city to live footage of Titans Tower. The teens were sitting in their living room, apparently unaware that their leader was missing. I quickly scanned their faces. The changeling was playing a video game with the cyborg. The quiet empath was ignoring them and reading a book. However, the normally bubbly alien girl was sitting quietly on the couch. I studied her face for a moment before rewinding the video footage.

I switched to Robin's workroom. I watched the alien girl step into the room, calling out Robin's name. She knocked over the small hologram, accidentally causing it to play. I paused the video and sighed.

_She knows, _I thought. I made a mental note to check in on her more often. Even though that alien girl held a ditzy air I knew that she was dangerous. Tamaraneans were a warrior race. This Starfire could cause some real damage if she put her mind to it. But she didn't know that Robin would be working for me yet. So long as I kept out of the spotlight for a while they wouldn't suspect that I was behind his disappearance. Although it wouldn't hurt to send out a false lead to suggest that his disappearance was caused by another villain.

_But the Titans knew that he was trailing me, _I thought, _I would be the first suspect on their list. _

Honestly, though, I didn't expect to find Robin trailing me so closely. And even when he was deliberately breaking into tech companies he didn't bother to fake them. If I knew that it was him from the beginning I would have expected him to tell the companies in advance. But he didn't. Was that because he didn't feel the need to? That everything and everyone would be complacent and go according to plan?

This had been the last test. Yes, he had several faults that needed to be fixed, but that wasn't anything that training couldn't handle. In fact, I expected him to make mistakes. He may have more experience than most his age, however he was still young. While I could gloat over the fact that I won I knew that a victory over a teenager was hardly cause for celebration.

"Have the Titans realized that he is missing yet?" Wintergreen asked.

"No," I replied. "They think he is still researching me. Well, in a way he is now…"

Neither of us laughed. I didn't quite mean that as a joke. I wasn't much of a jokester anyway, not like the boy was in his early days. I supposed that is one of the few differences between us: his smart-aleck nature. From what I could tell, he had put away that side of him when he moved to Jump City. Perhaps I could coax it back out again.

Then again, I could be assuming too much. I knew a lot about the boy, but I didn't know him well as a person. There was only so much that I could glean from our previous conversations. There is a lot more to a man when he is broken down. There was no doubt in my mind that I would have to break Robin mentally down. Once I assessed all of his weaknesses and hit his self-esteem hard in the gut then I could develop the right techniques for changing the way he thought about the world. A paradigm shift for him, so to speak.

Instead of chiding me for my decision Wintergreen began to bustle around the room, dusting off the computers to make sure that the Haunt was suitable for our new guest. Despite the fact that I knew he would feel…what was the term Wintergreen used…_nervous…_there were other things I could do to make him feel more at ease.

I ran through several options in my head as I worked out a plan to turn him. I wasn't going to wait until he agreed with me to train him, though. I was going to have to gradually ease him into a routine; trick him into training with me willingly. Yes, it wasn't ideal, but it would do. I thought back to the few conversations we had when he masqueraded as Red X.

_A costumed figure that I had never seen before popped on screen. Hmm…perhaps I would deign to grant him an audience. I was immediately struck by the young man's cocky attitude. _

_"Rumor has it you're interested in this." The thief held up a green computer chip. _

_ Ah. Something about this thief seemed…off. I studied him through the webcam. I would play along for a bit and see what the kid wanted. _

_ "I'm interested in many things, Mr…?" _

_ "X. Red X." _

_ "Hmm. Catchy. So are you proposing a sale…or a gift?" _

_ "A partnership. I will give you the chip and you cut me in on your plans." _

_ At once I understood what was bothering me: this was not a true thief. It was Robin. All at once the gears began to click in my mind. All at once I could not believe that Robin, the Batman's protégée, had done this. Another part of me grudgingly admired him for his brilliance. I have always admired Batman for his skills alone. Even without superpowers he was a formidable opponent. His protégée was just the same. _

_ Although I knew that I would have eventually figured out that it was him Robin had given himself away with the word "partnership." However, for a brief moment I considered the possibility. While I had been throwing clues for him to unravel for a while this single act had cemented Robin's future. He proved to me that he could be as ruthless as he needed to be to achieve his goals. This was the one. _

_ "A partnership. My, my, we are ambitious." I narrowed my eye. "But an alliance cannot be forged on one small chip. If you're going to win my trust, I'll require more." _

_ "Just tell me what you want." _

_ I smiled underneath my mask. For some time I had been searching for an apprentice…someone to follow in my footsteps. I hadn't even considered a Titan before…much less Robin, the Boy Wonder. But I had to admit that out of all five, Robin was the most dangerous. His willingness to do whatever it took to take me down impressed me. _

_ "There's one more thing I require," I said, "there is a third chip. Security might be upped since you stole the last two, so if you think you can handle it…" _

_ "Of course I can!" 'Red X' snapped. _

_ Hmm. The boy had a bit of a short fuse, didn't he? Good. It would be easy to mess him up, then. Of course, for me it was easy to trip any kid up, but Robin was a clever boy. He would catch on quickly. _

_ I told him what I needed. Although I knew that he was secretly seething underneath the mask I could tell that he was listening intently. Even now he was listening to me, showing me some respect, even if he grudgingly gave it. He was alert and paid attention to detail. No doubt that flying rodent taught him that. No matter. Batman gave him the basics. I would build upon them. _

I came back to reality.

Robin lay curled on the floor with his hands tied behind his back. He wouldn't remain out for long. I had to do it so that he wouldn't cause too much trouble trying to escape. I also didn't want him to try to call the other Titans or see the way to the Haunt. That's why I destroyed his communicator. The less contact he had with his friends the better. Although it would be amusing to see them fight one another, I had no leverage to use against him.

Yes, I had planned to blackmail him, but this way would be better. If I proceeded with the blackmail then it would do nothing but allow him to funnel all his anger towards me. It would give him another, much stronger reason to hate me. Instead, I would redirect his anger at me towards his friends and his mentor. Once those doubts were planted firmly in his head then I would allow him to meet with the Titans again. There were things I could say and doubt to cement those doubts firmly in his mind. He would come naturally to my side rather than be _forced _to my side.

"Sir," Wintergreen said in the silence, "He's bleeding."

I glanced quickly over my shoulder to see Wintergreen examining a gash on Robin's forehead. The Sladebots had been pretty rough with him. However, I didn't want him hurt too badly. A beaten-up apprentice wasn't going to learn anything. Well, he would get a few bruises now and then, but that's all part of the learning process.

"Leave it," I said. "You can take care of that later."

"Are you sure?" Wintergreen looked down at him. "Patching him up might put him in a better mood."

I entertained the thought briefly, but then shook my head. "No. If it's not life-threatening then leave him alone."

Oh, once the kid woke up we would definitely discuss his future. He had been naïve to trust me to keep my word. I would have to fix that. However, when I said that it was only natural that we should be partners I meant it. I am a man of my word. To truly be partners would require more than just computer chips on his part. In a way, he had sealed his own fate by agreeing to steal the chips for me: he proved that he was capable of bringing out the dark side of himself.

I began to examine his belt, which one of the Sladebots had taken away from him. For someone as young as he is to make something like this is admirable, but I began to shake my head when I opened the power core.

"Xinothium…" I said to myself.

Just as I had suspected. The kid had been dumb enough to power his suit with Xinothium. If he hadn't used it then it might have taken me a little longer to guess that he was Red X. Surely he realized how dangerous Xinothium was…

_Yes, he's perfectly aware of how dangerous it is, _I thought. _But he still did it. _

I smiled again. It was fascinating watching Robin do this to himself. Whether he knew it or not he was a thrill-seeker. Even when he knew that something was dangerous or stupid he still did it. That wasn't a desirable trait. True, I was once reckless, but I knew better now. If this mistake to masquerade as Red X didn't quell his recklessness then I would have to beat it out of him. I will have to teach him how to use his recklessness to his advantage, rather than let himself make stupid decisions because of it.

I heard him move. I looked down at him again. Despite the blindfold around his eyes I could see his brow furrowing. He would come back to consciousness in a few moments. He stirred slightly against his restraints.

"Will," I said in a low voice, "once I'm done talking to him take him to his room. You can also patch up that gash too."

_And any other injuries that may come up in our little "talk." _

Wintergreen nodded. Robin probably wouldn't be too pleased to see me in this manner, but now that he was here I had to make the best of this. One wrong move and everything would fall apart. I had to make him see things my way. He didn't know it yet, but I already made my decision to choose him as an apprentice. Call me stupid for choosing him, but it was clear to me that he was the best choice.

For a moment I wondered whether or not it would be wise to tell him outright that he was going to be my student. Lying there unconscious on the floor, he looked so weak…so vulnerable…but I knew that he was far from that. Wintergreen was right: he was dangerous not just for his potential to beat me but for his connection to the cape community. I quickly assessed the situation.

For me to be successful, I would have to take Robin away from his friends. I would have to convince him that my way was the best way. It didn't matter if I already knew what was best for him. To be able to manipulate him correctly I would have to think like him; maybe even anticipate his thoughts and feelings. If I were in his position I would feel very much like a prisoner. I suspected that is what he how be feeling like for some time. It cannot be helped. So long as he has that attitude I might have no choice but to treat him like one until I can trust him.

_No, _I thought, _I shouldn't tell him right away. Let him think I'm the villain. Use his new persona against him. _

I concluded that telling him that he was my apprentice right away might make him hate me even more. But soon I would turn that hatred against me into hatred against those he believed to be friends. The boy was awake now. He doubled over and began to cough, unaware that I was in the room with him. I uncrossed my arms. First impressions were important, and one could only plan a conversation so far ahead.

Well, there was no turning back from this now.

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><p><strong>AN: **Even though this is all in first person, rest assured that we will see the Titans! As some seasoned readers know, I'm pretty strict with my POV structure, so I'm not deviating from these two POVs.

In retrospect, I feel as though this chapter is better written than the last one. I wanted to write this in first-person because I really have to work at the different voices of these two characters. It's a challenge.

Review! Tell me if I'm repetitive.

P.S: I should have asked this a long time ago, but it would be helpful if some of you could help me describe my writing style. LOL, I couldn't explain to my prof how I write, so I thought you guys could describe it better than me!


	3. No Way Out

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Teen Titans.

**A/N: **

Oh man, I totally meant to update this a couple days ago, but my college friends kidnapped me (I had no idea they were coming to my house to pick me up that morning) and we had adventures. A tow truck was involved. So…yeah, pulled an all-nighter and didn't really work on anything.

To everyone who answered my question about my writing style: thank you. It's mostly for my benefit outside the world of fanfiction, but I was having a difficult time with that. All of the comments were helpful. :D

New readers: Any and all critique is welcome.

Also, I'm baffled that there is already fanart out for this fic, but **Sig Uchicha **very kindly made some comic pages based on the first chapter of this fic. Link on my profile!

Edit: Minor edits. Nothing to worry about.

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><p>Chapter 3: No Way Out<p>

**-DG- **

One of the first things I noticed when I woke up was that my hands were bound behind my back. My Xinothuim-powered utility belt had, of course, been taken away from me. That wasn't a surprise. I felt the cool, hard metal floor pressed against my cheek. With a panic I thought that Slade had removed both of my masks, but it appeared as though he had only removed the Red X one.

Although I was blindfolded, I noticed that I wasn't gagged. Slightly disorientated, I coughed and swallowed. My hands already felt numb from being tied behind my back for too long.

Forcing myself to relax, I tried to listen and feel for clues about my location. One of the first things I noticed were the constant clicking of gears churning above me. So I was in…some sort of warehouse? If I was, where in Jump City was I?

"So…Red X. When did you come up with that name?"

The hair on the back of my neck rose. Gooseflesh riddled my skin as I twisted around, trying to find the source of the voice. I heard someone walking near me. I could only assume that it was Slade. Who else would it be?

"Why are you even pretending to be interested?" I demanded. "If you knew it was me, then why didn't you say anything before?"

Had Slade been playing me all along? A sick feeling in the pit of my stomach told me that he had. However, I refused to believe it. How could I believe it? How could I have made a mistake? Even though I had no idea where he was I began to work at the knots. Slade noticed.

"Were you ever a Boy Scout?"

"I don't have to be one to know my knots."

"I see. I suppose Batman taught you everything that you know."

I didn't like the fact that he kept bringing up Bruce. Not even the other Titans brought up Batman around me. They knew it was a touchy subject. Besides, what right did Slade have to talk about Bruce? None whatsoever.

"That's none of your business."

Where was Slade? What did he want with me? Did he want to torture me for playing the part of Red X? Was he just going to stand there and gloat or what? On the other hand, he seemed to be making awkward small talk.

"What do you want?" I asked again. "At least let me see you!"

Slade ignored the question. Honestly, though, I didn't expect Slade to meet my demands. Unfortunately, I've had one too many bad run-ins with Gotham's worst villains. As Slade expected people to double-cross him, so I expected villains to kill and torture their prisoners. Old habits began to kick in. I mentally prepared myself for whatever horror Slade was going to throw at me. I started as I felt his hands removing the blindfold.

The room was dimly lit, but it was enough for me to see Slade standing over me, his arms crossed over his chest. I quickly surveyed my surroundings. I seemed to be on the floor of a medium-sized room. Large television screens covered one side of the room. They glowed softly, casting us in a faint bluish light.

"A little skittish, aren't you?" Slade asked. "Are you scared, Robin?"

I grimaced. This was just his way of getting into my head. I wasn't going to let him do that. Yes, of course I was scared, but I wasn't going to show it. That would only let him screw with my head. I merely looked to the side and said nothing.

"Robin, I asked you a question."

"No."

He knew I was lying, but he said nothing about it. I would lie to him as much as I wanted to. He was a criminal mastermind. He didn't deserve anything, not even the truth.

"Well, I do suppose that will make things easier for me."

I didn't like this. Was he going to torture me? That's usually what villains meant by saying that.

"What do you want?"

"What do I want?" Slade chewed over these words, as though pretending to be thinking deeply about them. "Well, I was under the impression that we would become partners."

"Yeah, guess what: I was lying. I'll never work for you."

"Why, Robin, I'm disappointed," Slade said. "I thought we had a deal."

"Sorry, but I have a strict rule against giving stolen technology to psychos."

"How very noble of you, but stealing in order to trap me…that wasn't so noble. Two wrongs don't make a righ—"

_"Don't you ever lecture me!" _

If there was one thing I hated, then it was being lectured like a child. Although I wasn't sure if Slade meant to do it, I couldn't help but notice how much he emulated Batman. His lecturing tone held a smidge of disappointment…

Slade ignored this last comment, although I could tell that I was trying his patience. Good. Although I wasn't quite sure what he meant by "partners." Slade didn't strike me as the kind of guy who liked to work with a partner. Maybe I should have realized that before I went to steal the chip tonight.

"What do you want to do, kill me?" I asked bitterly. "Then kill me now and be done with it. I'd rather not wait."

Was he some sadistic villain who would torture me before he killed me? What would he do? This is what I've been trying to figure out all along: how Slade would hurt people.

"You're no use to me dead, boy."

I stopped struggling to consider his words. If he was going to keep me alive, then how would he benefit? Slade seemed amused.

"Let me go."

"If I let you go, then can you face your friends after everything you've done to hoodwink them?" Slade asked.

Guilt immediately washed over me. They would be furious at me for not telling them about my plan. I acted like Batman and locked myself away, obsessing over this until I figured it out. I should have realized that I was way in over my head. However, I put this thought away as I lied to Slade's face.

"They would forgive me."

"Don't lie to me."

I froze and looked up at him. He spoke with a tone of authority. Slade was used to giving orders _and _he was used to seeing them obeyed. I frowned. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of giving in.

"Who do you think you are?" I demanded. "You have no right to order me around. Besides, don't you have anything better to do than lecture me?"

Was I really try to goad my captor? Yeah, it was a stupid thing to do, but I felt like picking a fight. I didn't want Slade to belittle me like this.

"Would they forgive you?" Slade asked. "How long have you known them now…a little less than a year?"

Comprehension dawned on me. I now knew what Slade intended to do: He would keep me alive for the sole purpose of watching the Titans drift apart on their own. By donning the identity of Red X I allowed him the opportunity to get rid of the Titans without him having to do anything other than hold me captive. Heck, he could have killed me and be done with it, but perhaps he wanted me to say something to them. Maybe he wanted me to say something to them to make them distrust me even more.

For a few seconds I ignored him and tried again to free myself. Despite watching the escape artists at the circus I couldn't emulate them. They never taught me any of their tricks. Slade just watched me. After a moment he spoke again.

"The alien girl knows your secret. How long do you think it'll take for her to tell them you are Red X?"

"Starfire knows?"

I couldn't stop the question from coming out of my mouth. I felt the flush creep up my neck as my cheeks burned in embarrassment. I shouldn't have to ask my enemy for information about my friends.

"Yes, she does."

A sudden urge to talk to her overcame me. I wanted to burst out of these ropes like Superman and fly back to Titans Tower. Out of all of the others she would be the one most hurt by this. And if Slade intended to rip the Titans apart, then what better way than to plant the seed of suspicion in Starfire? Once she told the team that I was Red X then their trust in me would diminish. If Slade came in to gloat that I had truly turned evil, then would that be so hard for them to believe?

"Burn in hell you freak."

Slade moved so swiftly that I almost didn't see him coming towards me. He grabbed a fistful of my shirt and yanked me forward, so close that I could see my defiant reflection on his metal mask.

"I can only take so much disrespect," he growled. "From now on you will address me with respect."

I spat in his face.

_Slap! _

The force of the blow knocked my head violently to the side. A little river of blood trickled out of the corner of my mouth, coming from a cut from the inside of my mouth. The left side of my face prickled with pain. That had hurt. My eyes widened in surprise and pain. Though why I felt surprised I don't even know…

"I'm sure Batman taught you manners," Slade said calmly. "I expected more from you."

There he was, bringing up Batman again. I looked away from him. Slade wasn't finished lecturing.

"Remember this: I follow through all of my threats, Robin. You're in my territory. You follow my rules or else you may find your stay here rather…unpleasant."

"Why should I give you respect?" I growled. "When you don't deserve it?"

Slade grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head painfully backwards. I swallowed, trying not to cry out in pain. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Slade looked at me, and even through the mask I could tell that he was amused at my stubbornness.

"Let's make something clear right now: I'm the one in charge here," Slade said softly. "I could so easily kill you, but I won't. Right now I'm in charge of your life. If I tell you to do or say something, then I expect you to do it."

In a way, I wish he would have yelled. That cold, soft tone betrayed more of his personality than I wished to hear. Each word was spoken with quiet deliberation. Not quite the tone one used for a misbehaved child, but it was close enough for me.

"No."

I tensed, expecting him to hit me again. I knew how to take a hit. I had been beaten so much worse by Two-Face. Still, that didn't mean that it didn't hurt. I looked at Slade straight in the eye, my lips turned into a defiant frown.

"I'm sure you'll be thinking otherwise in a few hours." Slade shook his head. "Being on my good side will only make things easier for you."

I allowed myself to relax just a little, but that was what Slade had been waiting for. As soon as my guard was down he hit me across the face again. Winching, I decided to shut my big mouth.

"Your friends will never find you. Not if they believe that you have left them for good."

_He's psychotic, _I thought.

However, Slade had a point. What was going to stop my friends from thinking that? If I didn't return tonight they would go investigate. They would search my room and find that I had been lying to them for a while. All those nights I had been staying at the Tower, supposedly doing "research" I was actually out and about as Red X. I lied to them and committed crime. What if they told Batman? What then?

I couldn't imagine a worse situation.

"You'll pay for this," I snarled, renewing my efforts to free myself. "You can't make them hate me."

"Of course I can't. You've already done that yourself."

If his plans were to break up the Titans, then why was he keeping me alive? To torment me? Well, he was doing a good job of messing with my head. Just lecturing me like this was getting on my nerves. Slade wasn't finished talking.

"You can't lead three separate lives."

_Three separate lives? _

"What do you mean?"

"Robin," he held up a finger, "your civilian identity and that of Red X."

He held up three fingers. Why did he mention my civilian identity? That had nothing to do with this.

"Oh, and I forgot to mention a fourth," Slade said, in a tone that suggested that he had not forgotten at all, "the identity you'll eventually assume once you give up the title of 'Robin.'"

The thought hadn't even crossed my mind. But even if Slade wanted to keep the lie going eventually the Titans would realize what was going on. They would come to help me. But what on earth did Slade mean by that? I mean, I knew that if I did continue being a superhero I would have to leave the Robin identity behind, but…

"I'm not going to hang up the cape," I said. "And I'll always be Robin to _you." _

Sure, the name wasn't bound to strike fear into the hearts of my enemies, but it was name that had a reputation behind it.

"Robin…Red X…who are you really?"

He seemed to be talking to himself now. As he mused I suddenly became aware of what he was insinuating. Was he going to demand that I tell him my secret identity? Even if he just took off my mask it would only be too easy for him to guess who I was. However, he merely seemed to be musing.

"But, I suppose that's up to you to decide."

"Decide what?"

"Who you really are."

To my great surprise he didn't press the matter any further. I guess my secret identity had nothing to do with his plans. Not that I wasn't complaining or anything. I was glad that he wasn't going to press me to talk about my identity. Still, this was odd. I've never had a villain talk to me like this before.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I believe I'm doing you a favor," Slade said. "You obviously don't want your friends to know you're Red X…"

No, I didn't want them to know. That much was true. But how far would I be willing to go to keep it a secret from them? If Starfire knew that I was Red X, then would she tell the others? Or would she keep the lie going? She was probably torn between keeping the secret and telling the team. I hoped that she would tell them. Although I was sure that I could escape from this there was always the possibility that I wouldn't be able to. I needed them to help me now.

"No, you're not doing me any favors. I don't want any favors from you."

"Oh, I understand that, of course. I'd just hate to see what the press would say about you, the Boy Wonder, being Red X...or even what Batman would say."

Why did he keep bringing up Batman? I kept my mouth shut. Talking about Bruce was like touching an exposed nerve: it hurt a lot. I could see what Slade was trying to do, and I w_asn't _going to let it get to me…

"What do you want?" I asked again.

"I'm intrigued by this persona you've created for yourself. But I'm not obliged to tell you my plans. You haven't earned the right to hear them anyway."

So that was it, then? Nothing more? Was he just going to keep me here as part of his mysterious plan to do God knows what? At least other villains _loved _to monologue. I only assumed that Slade would do the same when he gloated over a captive. In a way he was, but he made sure that he didn't reveal his true intentions to me, which was so irritating.

"However, I do expect you to follow my orders. That much I can tell you."

"You can't make me," I said haughtily.

"Who says I'm going to make you?"

That statement took me aback. Slade didn't seriously expect me to believe all of his lies, did he?

Did he?

I let out a slow breath. Goading my captor wasn't going to help me in the slightest. Yeah, I wanted to annoy him, but right now I couldn't afford to do that anymore. Once I got out of these ropes I would discover Slade's real plan and then get the hell out of here.

"Let. Me. Go."

"Be patient. If you want your hands untied then you will ask nicely. It's all up to you how you want to be treated here."

I took a deep breath. It wouldn't be that hard to ask nicely, would it?

_It only hurts my pride, _I thought wryly.

Still, I said nothing. I didn't want to say it. It suddenly struck me that Slade was one of those villains who was sane. He hadn't yet beaten me up too badly. Only when I spat in his face did he do anything to hurt me. The hero side of me said to give him a chance, but then Bruce's training kicked in. Slade could be like Ra's al Ghul. Be perfectly nice and sane until he suddenly got mad. Those were the worst kind of villains. Slade shrugged.

"I'll leave you here for another few hours then," Slade said, "I don't have time to wait on you."

A sudden thought occurred to me. It would be stupid of me to let an opportunity like that to fly by. If I was going to escape then I needed to have my hands free.

"Wait," I said.

Slade stopped walking and turned around. I knew what he was waiting for: for me to ask to be let go. It was his way of asserting his superiority over me. For now, though, I would have to let him flaunt it.

"Could you…please…let me go?" When Slade said nothing I hastily added. "Sir."

I hated saying those words so much. He didn't deserve an ounce of my respect. But whether I liked it or not _someone _had to untie me. True to his word, Slade bent down and began to cut through the ropes.

I sprang to my feet and threw a fist to Slade's face.

Slade caught my fist and rammed a fist into my stomach. It knocked most of the wind out of me. He watched me fall to the floor. I felt so weak from fighting the Sladebots. I was in no physical condition to fight anyone. I knew it and Slade knew it.

Still, I struggled to push myself to my knees. I wasn't going to take any of this lying down. Slade laughed quietly, as though amused by my stubbornness. However, _nothing _about this situation was amusing.

"Quite impressive," he said. "But if I were you, I'd save my strength for another fight."

He was right: I couldn't fight him now. As I stood up again I looked at him. No matter how much I wanted to stay just to figure out what his plan was, I knew that I needed to leave. If me being here helped him advance his plans, then I needed to do everything possible to thwart them.

I bolted.

Before I had even gone two steps I felt Slade yank me back by the collar of my costume. He pulled the fabric so tightly that I began to choke. I tried to jerk away again, but this time he grabbed the back of my neck. As I fumbled for air I didn't move again. I felt as though any move I made would cause me to pass out.

"I don't think you're leaving."

Panic kicked in. Writhing like a bundle of live wires, I tried to twist out of his grip again. For once I didn't care about figuring out what his plans were. Every single atom in my body screamed at me to get out of here. As the situation finally crashed down over me claustrophobia overwhelmed me. As I spun around to punch his face he grabbed my shoulders and kneed me hard in the gut. The air whoosed out of my lungs. I shuddered quietly for a few seconds, my face screwing up in pain as I gasped for air. It was then, perhaps, when all hope of beating him evaporated. Here I was: tired, beaten and irritated that I had allowed myself to be manipulated like this.

"If you're going to fight me, Robin, then you better pick your fights. You can't afford to fight every single time we meet."

I said nothing. There was nothing I could say to counter that. Why was he even bothering to lecture me? It was probably just another one of his ways to belittle me. Hmp.

"Do you understand me?"

"Yes," I hissed through clenched teeth.

"Yes, what?"

There was nothing more I wanted to do than spit in his face again. Sure, I would probably be slapped again, but for one glorious moment I was willing to accept that just to piss him off. Getting hurt would get me nowhere, though. Conserving energy to escape was more important.

"Yes, Sir."

Somehow I sensed that that wasn't quite the response he wanted, but it seemed good enough. Whatever he wanted me to do I wouldn't do it with enthusiasm, that is if I did it at all.

"You want to get those wounds looked at?" he asked, gesturing towards the gash on my head.

"No, I'm fine. Leave me alone."

If there was anything worse than being a captive, then it probably was accepting help from the captor. One thing could lead to another…accepting unnecessary help would bring about unnecessary interaction with Slade. As one of Jump City's heroes I despised crime and all who participated in it. Slade represented the worst of it, and no matter what I would make sure that he was brought down.

"It isn't an option," he said. "Wintergreen will look at them before you go to bed. Go now."

What—I couldn't believe that he was telling me to go to bed like a little kid. I turned my head to see who he was pointing at. An older man stood at the far end of the room. My head cocked slightly to the side in curiosity. This man didn't look like he worked for a super villain. Why would he be here…?

Slade gave me a push. "I told you to go."

Glowering, I started moving towards the other end of the room. So, Slade didn't work alone. He had this henchman that I knew nothing about.

What did Slade really want with me? My shoulders slumped dejectedly. Weariness ached every inch of me. Sleep would be nice…

As I walked towards Wintergreen Slade left the room. Apparently I wasn't _that _important if Slade left me a baby-sitter. While he deigned to spare the time to talk down to me I was probably nothing more than a tool to advance his plans, whatever they were. The thought of being nothing but a tool pissed me off. I was a person, a human being who had rights. Already I could tell that Slade didn't seem to understand that other people had feelings too. Or maybe he did, but he just didn't care.

"Sit down," Wintergreen said. "This will only take a minute."

I didn't sit down. Wintergreen worked for Slade. No matter how nice he appeared to be that still made him my enemy. As he opened a small bottle of disinfectant I made my move. I threw my fist right at his face, intending to knock him out so that I could make my escape. To my surprise Wintergreen caught my arm in a grip nearly as strong as Slade's. My arm shook as I tried to wrench it out of his grip.

"I'm just as capable of taking you down as Slade," Wintergreen said. "I may be old, my young friend, but I'm not an invalid. Sit down, please."

Grimacing, I let my arm fall back to my side as I sat down in the chair Wintergreen offered me. That was dumb of me. Assessing Wintergreen's strengths and weaknesses was something I should have done instead. I needed to be more aware of my surroundings.

"Why does Slade want me here?" I demanded.

Wintergreen raised an eyebrow. "It's not my place to tell you that."

I shifted uneasily on my chair. I allowed Wintergreen to dab disinfectant on my wound. It stung a little, but it wasn't anything to cry over. And even if it was I wouldn't give Slade the satisfaction of knowing that he hurt me.

Once Wintergreen was done he gestured for me to follow him. The Haunt—or whatever Slade's hideout was called—was massive. A myriad of hallways and secret passages meant to befuddle any newcomer. They certainly baffled me. Soon I lost track of where I was, and before I knew it we had arrive at our destination.

He pushed open a door and motioned for me to step inside. For a split second I hesitated. This was most likely a little cell. Once inside I'd be locked in. I didn't want to intentionally trap myself. Noticing my hesitation, Wintergreen motioned to me again.

"Step inside or I'll call Slade."

That got me going. I felt as though I were stepping into a guillotine. It was a small, but not an uncomfortable, room. There wasn't much in there, just a bed, a nightstand and drawers. Truth be told, it was more than I expected from Slade. I didn't expect him to have the decency to treat his prisoners like human beings.

"There are spare clothes in the drawers," he said.

"What?" I shot him a curious glance. "How…how long am I supposed to be staying here?"

Although I wasn't prone to freaking out, something about all of this sent chills down my back. Slade had pre-planned all of this. He had planned to kidnap me, made the arrangements for everything necessary to keep me here, and then entrapped me.

And I let him do it.

"How should I know?" Wintergreen replied. "Go to bed. I'll wake you up in the morning."

"But—"

No one was answering my questions. Jeez, didn't I have the right to know why I was being kept here? Wintergreen obviously knew more than he let on. Some way or another I was going to get answers. The butler cut me off.

"Go to bed," Wintergreen repeated, shutting the door.

My retort died once I heard him lock the door. God, that was annoying. While I couldn't be completely mad at Wintergreen I still had every right to be. The guy was working for Slade, after all. What kind of man would willingly do that?

As soon as the door shut I began to search the room for a possible escape route. I felt all along the walls for something…_anything…_that would help me. My fingers felt for any unusual bumps that could be hidden cameras or microphones enclosed within the walls. No matter how welcome Slade would try to make me feel here, I knew that I would be watched like a serial killer in prison.

I tried moving the furniture. If worst came to worst I could barricade myself in here to buy myself some time. However, everything seemed to be bolted to the floor. I checked everywhere I could for _anything _that could help me escape or to defend myself. But the air vent in the ceiling was too small for me to crawl through. The door locked automatically. I wouldn't be able to pick the lock because there wasn't one.

The lights suddenly switched off. My heart hammering, I stumbled in the sudden darkness until my shin hit the frame of the bed. I swore under my breath as I hopped on one foot. I fell on the floor and grabbed my throbbing leg, trying to ease the pain by massaging it. The door opened just a crack. Startled, I looked up and saw Slade's figure. I stopped moving, my whole body tensing for a fight. Truthfully, I felt a little silly. There I was, sprawled on the floor looking like a complete moron.

I couldn't see Slade's face, but I inferred enough from his body language that he wasn't in a happy mood. The room was small enough to make me feel trapped should someone come in. There was nowhere to run or hide should I ever get it into my head to spring a trap. For a few seconds we just stared at one another in uncomfortable silence.

"Go. To. Bed."

And with those words he slammed the door shut, leaving me in complete darkness again.

For some reason, this sobered me. All thought of trying to find an escape route fled from my mind. I needed to rest. I guess there wasn't anything left for me to do except go to bed. I felt my way to the bed and crawled under the covers. I didn't even bothering changing into pajamas. I didn't even take off my mask. Whatever Slade thought this stay wasn't going to be indefinite.

_If I can't get out then my friends will help me, _I thought. _They'll find me. Then we'll kick Slade's butt together. _

Minutes ticked by. Slowly, it began to dawn on me that perhaps I couldn't do this by myself. The Titans were supposed to help me bring down Slade. I never intended to fight him alone. Or did I? Nothing I've done in the past twenty-four hours suggested that I wanted or needed help from my friends. I guess it's no surprise that Slade assumed that I pushed them away on purpose.

For the longest time I thought that I wouldn't be able to sleep. The darkness seemed absolute. I couldn't even hear the gears in this room; I was completely locked away from the world. If I cried out for help, would anyone hear me?

Eventually my heavy eyelids closed as my weariness overwhelmed me, my sleepy mind wondering what tomorrow would bring.

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><p><strong>AN: **

Ha, I think I could write entire chapters of these two talking and not be bored. I'm so weird.

Review!

P.S I set up a goodreads account under the same username, if anyone is interested in friending me there…I need book recommendations!


	4. Patience

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Teen Titans.

**A/N: **

So, at 2am Mellowtopian and I decided it would be a great idea to start a separate Tumblr account for William Wintergreen. XD. I highly encourage all of you to follow this blog if you want to read more fanfiction while waiting for chapters to come out. It's basically constant fanfiction in the form of Wintergreen's online blog, along with pictures, videos, gifs and possible fanart. You guys can interact with this blog (I enabled the anon ask, so even if you don't have a Tumblr you can still ask questions. You may also submit posts). The more you guys interact the more hilarious it'll be. I'll probably be doing most of the writing. Also, I have to warn you that it's a parody blog. Link on my profile.

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><p>Chapter 4: Patience<p>

**-SW- **

Despite everything going on with Robin, I still had my appointments to keep. Although intent on teaching him, I couldn't afford to let anyone else know about this. Not only would it attract unwanted attention from the cape community, but it would also raise questions in the criminal underground.

Of course, there was little danger of other villains finding out about this. Most in Jump City were smart enough to leave me alone. But Robin made himself a lot of enemies, both in Gotham and Jump City.

I checked on the cameras I placed in Titans Tower. Although early in the morning, the Titans were up and about. It was obvious that they knew Robin was missing now. They gathered in the common room, glancing nervously at one another.

"Does anyone know where Robin is?" Cyborg asked.

"He's not answering his communicator," Beast Boy said. "What should we do? This is weird, even for him."

The one named Raven nodded. Starfire, however, said nothing. She simply stood there, perhaps internally agonizing over whether or not she should tell them the truth.

The question was: if Starfire knew that Robin was Red X, then what was she going to do? Telling the others would cause them to immediately distrust him, despite the fact that they would keep looking for him anyway. I wanted her to tell them that he was Red X. I wanted to sow the seeds of distrust between them. After watching the Titans defeat the HIVE kids I sent after them I knew that they could function without Robin. Even so, without their fearless leader they were less efficient.

Hmm. I would have to move quickly to make sure that they wouldn't find him. Or better yet: I should arrange to have Robin's files destroyed. If they wanted to find me, then they would have to start from scratch. Robin had a pretty thorough understanding of Jump City's criminal underground. Without that information the Titans wouldn't even know where to begin. I turned off the cameras.

"I know you're a great tactician," Wintergreen said, "but don't get ahead of yourself. Sometimes you rush into things."

"When have I ever done that?"

"When you saved me in Vietnam…that was reckless. If it hadn't been for the serum you would have been killed."

Ah yes, I remembered that all too well. But if I hadn't taken that risk then Will would have died. Yeah, I might have been a bit reckless, but I had a debt to pay.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Sometimes you let your emotions get in the way of your common sense. That boy…he's not Grant. No matter what you say, no matter what you make him believe, he's not going to be the same." Wintergreen looked away. "That's all I wanted to say before this…may get out of hand."

It was my time to be silent. Neither of us had discussed Grant since the funeral. I didn't want to, and Wintergreen had enough sense not to ask me about it. With Adeline gone after the divorce, I mourned quietly. To have him bring up the subject so bluntly, and at such an inappropriate time…

"I'm perfectly aware of who he is," I replied testily, "and I'm perfectly aware that my son is dead."

"Eventually he's going to have to understand what you're trying to do. It won't make sense to him unless you tell him that Grant is dead."

"Whoever said that this is about Grant?" I snapped. "It's not about him. And what exactly do you think I'm trying to do?"

"Nothing." His tone coolly suggested that it wasn't nothing. Wintergreen merely looked at me. "You may go about this apprenticeship however you wish. I won't stop you."

Well, if he wasn't going to do anything to stop me, then I suppose I would just let the matter drop. However, I had the feeling that this wouldn't be the end of this conversation. I looked away from him and tried to cool off. Wintergreen's sudden comparison of Robin and Grant made me feel uneasy.

At around ten I decided that I would see him. Although highly interested in his potential I didn't want him to know just yet. Sure, I left him a few hints, but I was going to let him figure it out on his own. Even on my part this was a dangerous game we played.

"Send him in here in ten minutes," I told Wintergreen.

As I waited I worked. Those chips I had Robin fetch for me wouldn't go to waste. Right now I was in the process of planning one of my biggest heists yet. While I occasionally took on a contract I didn't have one right now. Training Robin wasn't going to bring me anything either until I trusted him enough to rob banks. So, naturally, I would go on with my other plans while simultaneously training him. Once the chips were configured to be compatible with my technology, then I would be able to go forward with my plan.

Ideally, Robin would help me with the heist, but I have to be realistic. Convincing him to trust me was going to be hard enough. Without any blackmail there was no guarantee that he would do whatever I would order him to do. I also planned to steal something from Wayne Enterprises' Jump City branch, which I was sure wouldn't go well with him.

_Grant, _I thought. _Will is wrong. I haven't even thought about Grant since he died. What he was insinuating…that I want to train someone like Grant…that's not what this is about. _

I heard Robin come into the main room. Robin walked slowly towards me as though walking up to the gallows. He had chosen to stay in his Red X costume, though without the mask. I didn't mind. In fact, if all went well I might even let him keep that persona, if he so desired. I continued to work for a few minutes, secretly testing his patience as I ignored him. I could almost feel the dread building up inside him. As a criminal mastermind it is imperative to understand how to intimidate people. Even if his face betrayed nothing I could tell that he was scared.

Yet I could almost feel his eyes watching me closely. Even now, as a prisoner, he was still trying to figure me out. Maybe he wouldn't try to leave until he discovered everything about my plans. It made me a bit uncomfortable, as well as annoyed me a bit. What a stubborn kid. Despite the fact that I could control him, there was always the slight possibility that he could outsmart me or beat me in a fair fight.

Huh. Funny, how those were two of the reasons why I picked him in the first place.

He stood still, watching me work. Robin couldn't possibly piece together my plans just from the stuff on my desk, but I could never be too careful. After five minutes I decided to talk to him. I pushed my plans well out of his sight.

"Good morning, Robin," I said, turning. "Sleep well?"

He said nothing. Quiet little kid, wasn't he? However, silence wasn't an answer. I needed to confirm that he heard me. His silence irritated me.

"Robin, I asked you a question."

"I'm fine."

Going for the laconic route, then. He was probably using every ounce of self-control to not blow up at me. I knew he had a lot of questions. He was a clever boy who would do everything in his power to discover the reason behind his kidnapping. I would let him figure it out on his own.

He looked away from me. That attitude wasn't going to do him any good. Last night's talk seemed to get the message through to him that he wouldn't be able to beat me in a fight (at least not yet).

"What are you—" he stopped himself. It was as if he knew that he wouldn't get an answer from me. Good. He was learning. He then spoke in a calm tone. "How long are you planning on keeping me here?"

"As long as I need to."

I had no need to indulgence him with detailed answers. I could have shut him up in his room all day just to drive him nuts, but perhaps that wouldn't be necessary just yet. There are several different ways to mentally break a person, and I didn't want to have to resort to the more extreme measures. Breaking a person too quickly, especially someone as young as Robin, could have drastic side-effects. For me it would be difficult to draw a fine line between outright hurting him and making sure he followed my orders. Even though I'm not proud of it, I knew that I could easily hurt him if I got mad.

He struggled to find a retort. Apparently he couldn't find one.

"How did you know it was me?"

Ah, very good. It seemed to take a chunk out of Robin's pride to ask. But learning to admit one's mistakes was the first step to becoming better. Still, I knew that he would never let go of the idea that he was morally superior to me. Time to deconstruct that.

"First off, you were taking my stash of Xinothium." My voice became hard. "Did you really believe that I wouldn't notice? Or that Chang wouldn't tell me that you bullied the Xinothium off of him?"

He said nothing to that. He knew that I was right. I leaned back in my chair and studied him. "Do you regret becoming Red X?"

"Only in the fact that I failed to achieve my objective."

"Interesting."

I didn't elaborate. How interesting indeed…that Robin only found failure in the fact that he failed to trick me. Either that or he wanted to avoid talking about his friends' trust in him. However, the goal of this conversation—and the ones that would inevitably follow—would be to get him to doubt his trust in his friends, as well as to doubt himself.

"I suppose you thought that the Titans would forgive you once you captured me."

"Why do you care?" he snapped. "What the Titans think is none of your business."

_It is my business, _I thought, _when your team is actively trying to put me in jail._

Ever since I arrived in this city it has been my top priority to put the Titans out of commission. Young they may be, but their unpredictability could catch me off guard. Two of them—Robin and that Beast Boy—had been trained by some of the best heroes in the business. But just because Robin wasn't with the Titans didn't mean that he wasn't a threat. Right now he was imprisoned, cornered. And cornered men do dangerous things.

"As I said before: trust is important, Robin. You broke the little trust I put in you."

Like any other kid, he hated to be lectured. From past experience I knew that lectures were sometimes the only way to pound something in a kid's head. But perhaps lectures weren't the way to go right now. Sometimes, especially with hotheaded kids like Grant, the best way to manipulate them was to make them believe that they came up with the desired idea in the first place. Inception, if you would like to call it that.  
>"If you were to repeat the past, what would you have done differently?"<p>

He looked up at me, as though hardly believing me. Robin thought about his answer. I could tell when he tried to answer something thoughtfully.

"I would have told my friends what I was doing. But that doesn't matter, because we're still going to take you to jail."

"Do you really think so?" I stood up. "What possessed you to try to trick me?"

Chuckling softly, I shook my head when he didn't answer.

"You've a darker side to you, Robin," I said. "You're just too afraid to embrace it."

Instantly, I sidestepped away from his incoming fist.

Even though it was stupid of him to fights like this in his condition, I drew out the fight for a bit. I wanted to give him a fighting chance, even though it was so obvious who was going to win. I did it partly so that he would understand who was in charge and partly because it would wear him out. Once he got tired then he would be easier to manage.

His movements were a tad bit off, but still admirable.

Now that I was _actually_ fighting him I realized just how small he was. There was no way in _hell _he would be able to beat me even if he wanted to. But, I wasn't in the mood for a fight this morning. Training would be for another day, when he was in a less surly mood.

I wrestled him into a tight headlock, tightening my hold until he could barely breathe. Instead of flailing he elbowed me hard in the ribs, trying to make me let go. From previous experience I knew that it was hard to get out of a headlock. The fact of the matter was: Robin simply didn't have the brute strength to make me let go, but still, he kept trying to hurt me.

He might think that I'm a sadist, but I'm not. I knew that I was causing him a lot of pain, but that was inconsequential to the end result of this whole apprenticeship. He would become a better fighter out of all of this.

I waited so very patiently for him to stop moving. For a brief moment I thought that I had knocked him out, but then I heard him breathing heavily.

"Are you done?"

Slowly, painfully, he nodded. I let him go. He stumbled away, rubbing his neck.

"That's twice now you've started a fight," I said.

"What? You keeping count now?"

"You're an irritating little brat. No wonder Batman kicked you out."

I chuckled at my own joke, but Robin didn't seem to find that amusing. He scowled at me again, but I could tell that the comment struck something deeper within him. In that moment I realized just how insecure he felt. Even though he had a tough-guy attitude I could sense his insecurities already. Whenever I mentioned Batman he seemed to tense up; even his words became harsh. He refused to talk about Batman when he could help it. Had there been a falling out between them?

_I'll investigate that later. _

"Batman is also none of your business," Robin snapped. "If you haven't noticed: we don't work together anymore."

"You mean you don't work for him anymore."

Robin began to splutter before pulling himself together to form a coherent answer. "I never worked _for _him. I worked with him."

"You will never be equal with him, just as you will never be equal with me."

I knew who he was. I know who the Batman was. But I decided that I wasn't going to press him about his secret identity. He already disliked me. If I mentioned that I knew who he was that might push him over the edge. I would let him believe that he could keep his identity a secret from me. I'd let him keep that secret.

When he decided to reveal his identity to me then I knew that I could trust him a little more. But judging from our current conversation, I could tell that it was going to take a while. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"From a moral standpoint I'm far superior to you," he snarled.

"Considering Red X, I beg to differ."

That was always something I could come back to: Red X. So long as that mistake hung over his head I could deconstruct any argument about moral superiority he threw at me. His youth made him arrogant, but once he understood that the world wasn't so black-and-white then he would begin to question the morals Batman drilled into him. He seemed to find no retort for that.

"If you want to find out what I'm doing, you're going to have to do better than that."

He glared at me. However, I was being completely honest. If he wanted to figure out my true intentions then he was going to have to figure out the clues I left behind for him. Robin was smart enough to figure it out. In a way, his testing was still in progress.

"Aren't you going to monologue?" he asked sarcastically. "Gloat about your victory?"

"I have more important things to do than banter with you," I said. "Get out. You're a waste of my time."

Slightly taken aback, Robin shot me a sidelong glare. While this conversation was a pleasant distraction I wouldn't be able to work with this kid now. It really did frustrate me—not being able to start training him right away—but I heeded Wintergreen's advice. He would have to understand eventually—perhaps in a few years—but he didn't need to understand now.

"What happens if I don't?"

"You're not going to escape," I said quietly. "And I am also not an idiot. Unless you prove yourself to be a trustworthy individual, you will not be privy to my plans. So, unless you've had a sudden change of heart, I suggest that you go back to your room before you hurt yourself."

Although I said that he was here to help disassemble the Titans from the inside, I hadn't let go of the offer to work with me. My words were clear enough: if Robin wanted to know what I was up to, then he would have to convince me to trust him. The eyeholes of his mask widened in slight surprise, but the surprise on his face was soon replaced with disdain.

"Don't eat your words, Slade. Once I get out you're going down."

"A good tactician never tells his enemy his intentions. Now get out."

Really, it was much too easy to push his buttons. His hands flexed into fists, but he showed a bit more self-control this time around. But that wasn't a lecture. Even that flying rodent surely taught him how to behave himself.

I put a hand on his shoulder and tried to guide him away when he didn't move. Honestly, I wanted him to trust me. He twisted out of my grip and glared at me. Although he didn't say it, I could practically read his thoughts from the expression on his face: _Don't touch me._

I knew it wasn't over. He was a work-in-progress. He walked away, also scowling at the Sladebots that walked alongside him, making sure that he wouldn't run away. Wintergreen also watched him walk away.

"He doesn't seem too pleased."

"Let him sulk."

I was used to dealing with unruly kids. Grant had been like that when he was Robin's age. Well, I probably used a bit more force than I had with my own son, but Robin needed to have some sense pounded into him. At least when Grant was alive he had respected me. Joey of course never caused any trouble…

"I wonder how long your patience will last," Wintergreen said quietly. "You do have a temper, Slade."

"It hasn't even been twenty-four hours," I snapped. "Give me a break."

Even I wasn't so optimistic. The manipulation process would take a while. While we began today with a rocky start that didn't mean that this apprenticeship would end in disaster.

"I also don't know if belittling him or locking him up to drive him crazy is the best way to go," he replied. "From what you've told me of his past it seems like he doesn't need any more of that."

"He's annoyingly arrogant. He needs to be put in his place. Just because he's gone through a lot of crap doesn't excuse him."

"You were once like that too, Slade, when you were his age."

It's easy for me to forget that I was sixteen when I joined the military. Looking back on it—and watching Robin, who was sixteen now, act—finally seemed to put things in perspective for me. I was imposing the same standards on him that I put on myself. A sixteen-year-old, while old enough to understand the world without sugarcoating, could still be incredibly immature.

"I wasn't cocky at sixteen."

"I'm sure Adeline would have something to say about that."

That irked me.

"We'll talk about this later, Will. I have work to do."

For the rest of the day Wintergreen said nothing more about the subject. His advice was good, but it was getting to the point of lecturing. That wasn't his place. His place was to help me, not to lecture me like I was lecturing Robin.

I continued to work in solitude.

I expected Robin to concoct an escape plan. I'd be disappointed if he didn't try. Of course, I had the whole place rigged so that I would be able to catch him easily. But the more he tried and failed the more he would realize that his place was with me. He'd eventually realize that he would have no choice but to get me to trust him.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N: **And…I'll be out of town for the next few days. I'm traveling again, but this time to one of the greenest cities in the country LOL. Limited Internet access, or none at all. I'm not sure. Then I'm moving back to school! So see ya later!

Review!


	5. Anywhere But Here

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Teen Titans.

**A/N: **Hi. Apologies for the lateness of the chapter. It's uncharacteristic of me, I know. I came back from more traveling and then I had to power pack so that I could move back to school. The campus Internet has been positively shitastic, so I haven't been online much at all. Then I had computer issues. Then, of course, there's school, which has been stressing me out. Fanfiction may have to occasionally wait. Also, I don't think I'll have as many late-night Tumblr discussions with you guys since my roommates go to bed early. I feel guilty…and I have morning classes. The good news? The next chapter is here and I can look right into the boys' suite from this big creeper window in my dorm room. Me gusta.

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><p>Chapter 5: Anywhere But Here<p>

**-DG- **

Hmp. Whatever Slade said, he was gloating in his own way.

He was being a jerk and took every chance to belittle me, and I hated it. I hated him. The way he dismissed me—as if I were a misbehaving child—irritated me. He said that I wasn't worth his time—essentially that I was a waste of space. That I wasn't even a threat.

I'd beg to differ.

_Why did he want to talk to me, though? _I thought. _Does it make him feel better about himself to talk down to me? Yeah, probably. _

I wasn't a waste of space. He spent so much time trying to trap me that I couldn't possibly believe that he thought I wasn't a threat. Sure, maybe it was ego-centric for me to think like that, but I wanted to understand what he wanted of me. Once I understood that then I could go about destroying his agenda.

Instead of trying to puzzle him out, I began to devise an escape plan. I realized that I couldn't be rash. I sat on the bed and stared at the blank wall, fantasizing about blowing it up with my non-existent explosive discs. There were plenty of ways I could break out of here if I had my utility belt.

Eventually, though, my thoughts wandered over to other things. The one part of Slade's lecture this morning that still bugged me was the fact that he was still set on the idea of me working for him. Even after trying to attack him and insulting him he hadn't let that idea go.

_If that's the only way I can get out of here, _I thought, _then maybe it would be good to play along with Slade's game. _

But why, though?

He wanted me to convince him to trust me, but it was clear that neither of us trusted each other. It should be the other way around. Even though I didn't know his plans yet, I knew that he was going to hurt people. He may be one of the more clever villains out there, but I wasn't going to give him the respect that he wanted. He didn't deserve it. However, he had me trapped. Maybe the best thing to do would be to make him lower his guard by agreeing to…

No. There was always another way.

Whatever he wanted me to do, it would help advance his agenda. But…somehow…I didn't want to talk to my friends. Slade was right: they wouldn't trust me anymore. The fact that I was completely alone in this didn't make me feel any better.

I just wanted to be anywhere but here.

As the hours passed in silence I began to see how prisoners in solitary confinement could go crazy. Boredom can easily drive a person to madness. I tapped my fingers against my knees and tried to think of a way out of here. My head rested against the cool wall as I gazed up at the ceiling. It was cold in here. With nothing else to do, I found myself dozing off, my mind wandering back into the past.

_The raging wildfire seared a path towards the city. I skidded to a halt and looked up towards the hill where the monster originated. An old man dressed in red robes stood there, a mad smile spread across his face. He began to speak to Thunder and Lightning, who were standing behind him. They disappeared in a bolt of light. _

_Abandoning my team, I raced off after the old man. Although it was clear that Thunder and Lightning started this mess I sensed that someone was pulling the strings. Once Gizmo let slip that Slade had hired them to pick us off, I knew that Slade must have been the one to release Plasmus. Of course, I couldn't be sure that this was Slade, but I was going to find out if it was. _

_As the old man turned around to look over the destruction I leapt into the air and kicked the staff away from him. The staff spun out of his hand and landed a few feet away from us. He looked up interestedly as I approached him, a smile spreading across his face. To my great surprise he held out his hand, the staff swinging back to him as if he were a magnet. _

"_Robin. We meet at last." _

_Fear prickled me. Despite the scorching heat around me, cold sweat ran down my neck. _

"_Who are you?" _

_The old man said nothing, but instead yelled as he rushed towards me. He came at me so quickly that I didn't have time to take out my bo-staff. I ducked and dodged his frequent jabs with the staff until I managed to land a punch in his gut. Instantly we skidded away from each other, both of us quietly judging the other's fighting prowess. _

_We circled around each other warily, ignoring the burning forest around us. Some part of my mind kept nagging me to help the others put out the fire, but there was something about this man that gave me the shivers. _

"_Who am I?" he asked pleasantly. "Why, that's of no importance." _

_I took out my bo-staff. The fire sizzled and burned the forest around us as we fought. For an old man he sure knew how to pack a wallop. I couldn't shake off the feeling that he was holding back. If the Titans were here to help me…_

_An uppercut to the face sent me crashing back into the tree behind me. _

_ His hand closed around my throat. The combination of stress on my neck and the ever-growing smoke made it difficult to breathe. I had enough breath to growl angrily at him as I tried to free myself. The old man smirked. _

_ "Robin. Is that the best you can do?" _

_ Lightning flashed across the sky. My legs buckled underneath me as I crumpled to the ground, throwing my arms up over my face. A blast of heat hit me, nearly burning me as I took refuge underneath my cape. What happened? _

_ As the smoke cleared away I lowered my arm. The right side of the old man's face fell away. A mask. He narrowed his single eye at me as I gasped softly in astonishment. He disappeared in a puff of smoke. The surrounding fire cast uneven, flickering light on the medallion he left behind. I picked up the medallion, my eyes narrowing in dislike as I gazed at the letter "S" on the medallion. As the rain washed over me I remembered who Gizmo mentioned hired the HIVE. _

_ "Slade," I said under my breath. _

_ Slade, their mysterious employer. Slade, the unseen threat to the city. He was the only villain I couldn't discover anything about. What if Slade released Cinderblock? If so, then he must have sent the HIVE kids after us for revenge. Once we defeated them he must have gone out of his way to extract more revenge by going after the city. Why couldn't I figure it out sooner? Has he been leaving clues for me to follow? And if so, then why?_

_ When I returned to the others I didn't say anything about Slade. I didn't want to spoil the enthusiasm over their victory over the fire monster._

_ Colors and sounds melted together as my dreams became less coherent. If I had to recall them now, I can only say that there were snatches of memories. Like a daydream one has in the middle of class. My thoughts tumbled over one another, but eventually they began to focus on one thing: _

_ Red X. _

_ The transformation from Robin to Red X took only a few weeks. The early designs for the suit are still in my desk drawer somewhere. I wanted to create someone new, someone different. A ruthless thief who didn't let anyone get in his way._

_ When I put on that mask for the first time I felt…different. _

_I couldn't tell my friends because if they knew it was me, then they would have held back. But I guess that, in the end, it didn't matter, because Slade found out anyway. _

_ It seemed like such a good idea at the time. Such…a…good…idea. _

Sudden footsteps woke me from my doze.

Hurriedly, I rubbed my sleepy eyes and sat up straighter. At once I felt relieved that something was _finally _happening and dread that it would be Slade coming to beat me up. I heard whoever was beyond the door slide the key into the lock. My body tensed as the door opened.

Oh. Just a Sladebot.

What was it doing here? Was it here just to check up on me? Give me food? What? Well, it wouldn't give me answers. And I didn't intend to stay long to find out what it wanted.

Moving slowly so that I wouldn't cause it alarm, I scooted off of the bed. After a few seconds I decided that I couldn't wait any longer. I slipped through the door, held my fists together and bashed its neck. Without a bo-staff my fists hurt from punching the metal, but that didn't matter. The robot crumpled underneath me in a heap. Without waiting to see if I knocked it out I sprinted towards the exit.

If I had my belt, then I could teleport out of here. At the very least I could avoid the security cameras. Pressing myself against the wall, I glanced up at the cameras. If I screwed this up then it was possible that I might never have the chance to escape again. It was clear to me that Slade was a control freak. If he caught me once, then he could up the security in this place. I didn't want that.

Making as little noise as possible, I ducked underneath the cameras as the lens swiveled in the opposite direction. Frankly, I felt a little paranoid: I didn't know how tight security was around here. What if there were sensors I couldn't detect? What if Slade already knew that I was out? I dismissed the thought.

I walked quickly into the main room. Slade wasn't there. I looked up at the giant television screens. They weren't on. I wondered vaguely what on earth he used them for. I know that Beast Boy would probably use them to play Rock Band with people. However, I didn't waste any time dwelling on that. I needed to get out of here.

A part of me wanted to discover what Slade was up to first, but my instincts told me that I had to go back to Titans Tower first. The best way to take down Slade would be to beat him with my team behind me. I looked up and saw the wretched gears turning above me.

The gears were the only things in this place that didn't sleep. My instincts told me not to linger in this room. I strode past the tall television screens and tried one of the doors. To my relief the one I tried was unlocked.

Strange machines hummed all around me as I walked in. Unlike Cyborg, I'm not a technowhiz. I had no idea what any of these machines were supposed to do. However, I knew enough to recognize one of them. I stepped closer to it. No…it couldn't be…Slade wouldn't be crazy enough to build one of these…

_Or maybe he would be. _

Hesitantly, I touched the smooth metal surface. I wouldn't know for sure until I looked at the core, but still…there was no doubt in my mind that I knew what this was...

_Oh no. He's crazy, _I thought, my heart suddenly jumping into my throat,_ He built a Chronoton Detonator. _

The lights shut off suddenly. At once the doors around me began to lock automatically. The computer screen lit up and words scrolled lazily across one of the computer screens.

_Nice try, Robin. Don't try anything like that again. _

Part of me wasn't paying attention. My mind was too focused on the Chronoton Detonator.A Chronoton Detonator. God help us all, Slade built a Chronoton Detonator large enough to freeze the whole city. Was that what he was up to? But no, those chips I stole didn't have anything to do with Chronoton Detonators.

_Everything's rigged, _I thought suddenly. _Did Slade know that I would escape here? Why didn't he send anyone after me sooner? What's going on? _

Sudden terror washed over me. If I found a way to escape, how would I know if I actually found a way or if Slade set it all up? What if Slade didn't actually fight me in the woods when he manipulated Thunder and Lightning? What if he was a robot? How could I be sure of anything anymore?

_It's just another way he's messing with me. _

Footsteps pounded outside of the door. To my surprise, Wintergreen showed up with two other Sladebots. I half-expected Slade to show up himself, but yet again he left me a baby-sitter. Wintergreen didn't look surprised or irritated. He just sighed and gestured for me to follow him.

"Normally, this isn't how I would like guests to be treated," he said. He held up a hand once he saw that my hands had curled into fists. "Stand down, young man."

"I'm not your guest," I spat. "I'm your prisoner."

One look at the Sladebots shut me up. Fighting my way out of this wasn't a good idea. Wintergreen said nothing to me. As we walked back I made it a point to try to memorize the way back.

In the nearly twenty-four or so hours I've been here, I realized that I saw more of the butler than of Slade. In retrospect, the butler was kind to me. He didn't purposefully hurt me like Slade did, even when I was disrespectful. That was one good thing I had, and possibly the closest thing I had for a friend.

"So where's Slade?" I asked.

Nothing.

"Did he want me to escape like that?" I waited for an answer, but Wintergreen didn't give me one. "I know he expected me to do that."

Still nothing. I didn't want to walk in silence, so I offered more conversation.

"Why do you work for him?" I asked. "He's not keeping you prisoner here too, is he?"

The butler just shook his head. The silence between us was beginning to unnerve me. Unless I managed to escape, the only source of information was either Wintergreen or Slade. Right now Wintergreen was my best chance. But it seemed as though the butler was just as adamant about keeping me in the dark.

Once we got back to my room I tried yet again to elicit some sort of response from him. I spun on my heel and faced him. It wasn't nearly as intimidating as facing Slade. I rose up to my fullest height (which, I guess isn't very high) and glared.

"Tell Slade that he can go to hell."

Normally, I wouldn't say things like that, but already I was growing tired of being treated like this. Yeah, I guess that I could be grateful that Slade hadn't tortured me, but being locked up all day didn't improve my attitude. The butler paused and looked down at me. His expression didn't change.

"Robin," he said, "I understand your frustration, but Slade wishes to inform you that your attitude is not that of a hero. He's disappointed at your lack of manners."

_What the heck? _

"I'm sorry that I'm not living up to his expectations," I snapped. "But like I said before: he doesn't deserve my respect."

Who was Slade to judge anyone? Did he expect me to be like Batman, the ideal hero? Because if he did then he would be disappointed.

"Perhaps," Wintergreen said, "he isn't looking for your respect because he doesn't need it."

Well, I guess that was true. If Slade honestly that I was a waste of space then he wasn't going to waste his time trying to get me to think a certain way. Right? Well, I don't know. I don't make it a point to understand my enemies as people.

"Being locked up makes you destructive. You need better things to do with your time," Wintergreen said. "Coming up with an escape plan is not one of them."

"Then what do you suggest I do?" I asked sarcastically.

He frowned. "I don't know, Robin. I'm sorry that you have to be locked up like this."

My mouth opened slightly. Frowning even more deeply, Wintergreen quietly shut and locked the door. I stood there like an idiot for a few seconds before I recomposed myself. Maybe I should be nicer to Wintergreen. Maybe he really was being held prisoner by Slade but was forbidden to say anything about it. I made a mental note to look into that later. Still, he worked for Slade. I couldn't overlook that fact.

As I braced myself for another few hours of boredom I stripped off the gloves of the costume. Red X was a mistake. A terrible mistake. I wanted to burn this wretched costume and forget that this ever happened. But mistakes, whether trivial or not, have a way of haunting us until the repetition drives us insane. Sometimes one can't help but dwell upon them. With nothing to do and no one to talk to, there was nothing left for me to do but think about what I could have done, what I should have done…

_Let…me…out._

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><p><strong>AN: **I feel as though this chapter is "meh." I could have written this better. It's mostly build-up, which is difficult in this POV format for me. I want to make this different from my other apprentice stories, so if this feels repetitive then tell me.

Review!

P.S I probably sounded like a creeper from my author's note above LOL. I meant that I can wave to all of my guy friends without having to get up from my desk. I'm never going to get anything done this year...


	6. Revelation

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Teen Titans.

**A/N: **

I realized that I won't be very free this semester. I know last year I said that and I was fine for weekly updates, but I just picked up another job. It's just…I won't guarantee weekly updates, considering the crapload of work I have to do. Actually, considering my class schedule I'm changing updates to Wednesday or Thursday nights. I also created an FF forum called "Shenanigans." I wanted to post a challenge fic. So feel free to post a challenge fic for me or anyone else there! I love requests!

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><p>Chapter 6: Revelation<p>

**-SW- **

I heard Wintergreen walk into my office. I knew why he was there and spent the past few minutes coming up with things to say. Funny, how I felt the need to defend my actions to Wintergreen. I really shouldn't have to do that.

"He tried to escape, Sir," Wintergreen said. "Was there anything you wanted me to say to him in particular?"

"Actually," I said, "I expected him to do something more…devious."

"Well, Sir, you didn't leave him many options."

I momentarily ignored Wintergreen as I checked up on the Titans yet again. They were searching for him now. While annoying, they weren't much of a threat now. Not unless they somehow managed to find me.

_What if they do ask Batman for help? _I thought suddenly.

Surely they wouldn't ask Batman for help…unless they were desperate enough. That was always a possibility. Yes, I considered the JLA's possible intervention. The Titans, though young, could eventually become a bigger threat if no one did anything about them. I dismissed the thought.

"Well, I'll go check on him, then."

I needed a break anyway. Without looking at Wintergreen I strode out of the room and down the hall towards Robin's room. As I walked I allowed several thoughts to run through my mind.

_Initially, I didn't want the Bat's brat. _

Picking the right apprentice was a daunting task. I kept it as much of a secret as possible, although I suspected that the HIVE Headmistress knew something of my intentions. I already controlled the city, and I might frighten other villains into action if I picked up an apprentice as dangerous as Robin, or at least showed my intentions to others. The last thing I wanted was a power struggle with petty villains.

I opened the door to his room. He had changed clothes. He finally gave in and got rid of his Red X costume, which I suspected he didn't want to see again. Robin leaned against the wall, dressed in a black shirt and dark jeans. He looked up when I entered the room, a scowl on his face.

I purposefully left him alone for most of the day. He needed to come to his own conclusion about his actions. In a way, he needed to find his own peace with the fact that he made a big mistake. I didn't make him become Red X. He did it himself.

"What do you want?" he asked.

Huh. Already his tone annoyed me.

"A 'good afternoon' would have sufficed."

"I don't waste manners on you."

"Revise your tone at once, young man."

He felt trapped. I could see it. His whole body tensed, as though he expected me to hit him for his earlier escape attempt. Even his voice was tight with suppressed fear. One wrong action or word could set him off.

_Trapped men do desperate things, _I thought. I knew from experience that that was true. Perhaps I shouldn't make him feel so trapped. Perhaps it would diffuse the tension between us. I gestured for him to follow me.

I led him back to the main room and settled down in the metal chair. This was the room where I held most of my business meetings. I suppose that, for the time being, this was a business meeting of sorts. Robin glared at me for a few seconds before he finally exploded.

"What are you using the Chronoton Detonator for?" He demanded. "I saw it in the other room!"

"Quiet, Robin."

For a split second I was tempted to address him by his real name, merely for the sake of getting him to shut the hell up. There were several cards I had yet to play, but it would be too early to reveal that I knew his secret identity. I had to trickle out certain information in tiny bits. Robin shook his head.

"I can't be quiet about this, Slade."

"You will be when I'm talking."

No matter how amusing bantering was, I didn't have time for it now. As he opened his mouth to argue some more I held up a hand. "I don't want to fight you. I don't have time for your schoolyard tactics." I placed my fingertips together. "We're going to talk like civilized people. And it won't be about the Chronoton Detonator."  
>A strange guttural noise emitted from Robin's throat, as though he didn't believe that we could talk like civilized people. However, he didn't say anything more. Good. He needed to listen.<p>

"If you want to know why you're here, the clues lie in front of you. You can figure it out. So do it."

He said nothing, but I knew that he was thinking. It was probably a question that's been on his mind since he arrived. He shot me a strange glance, as though startled that I was ordering him to come up with an answer on the spot. Robin shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.

Really, it wasn't that hard to figure out…

"You're smart enough to do it, Robin."

The eyeholes of his mask suddenly went wide. I could almost hear his brain ticking away, putting together the clues I set out for him to find.

"What is it that I'm trying to do, Robin?" I asked pleasantly.

"You want to…teach me." An expression of extreme confusion crossed his face. "But…why?"

Despite everything he's gone through, all of the suffering he's experienced, he's still innocent in many ways. It was hard for me to fathom how a kid like him could come out of that bloody circus tent still thinking that the world can be improved. That even with all of the Tony Zuccos in the world he still thinks that people can change. That heroes can change the world for the better.

Not so.

The world is a mess. It'll never be fixed. Everyone, governments, the military, down to the last pocket thief, is out for himself. True altruism can never be accomplished. And even if a hero claims that it's genuine, then he's just using that to hide an interior motivation for personal gain. Right now I can forgive Robin for thinking so optimistically. He's young. Most young people are optimistic. But it's that blinding moral superiority that prevented him from completely accepting his dark side.

"The reasons are my own," I said curtly.

He snapped out of his daze.

"There's absolutely no reason for me to learn _anything _from you!" Robin snapped. "I won't."

In those few seconds he looked very much like a frightened child. Robin was aware that I had the power to control him. Like I said before: establishing control from the very beginning was crucial to the manipulation process. No matter what he said about being able to beat me, I think that he knew he really wouldn't be able to. Not physically. Not mentally. Never.

"Why not?" I asked. "You have no reason to go back to your friends. They don't trust you."

"I'm sure that joining you would totally convince them!" he shouted. "Your logic is flawed, Slade."

"As is yours, Robin." I smirked underneath my mask. Even his argumentative skills needed honing. "Does it really matter if they trust you? You're the protégée of Batman. You deserve more than that team."

He looked tired. Even with the mask on his face I could see the purple half-moons hanging beneath his eyes. He must have lied this morning when he said he slept well last night. His shoulders slumped dejectedly. Being locked up all day tried his patience. Was he getting tired of arguing already?

And his logic was flawed. If he was truly a "good guy" then he would have never taken up the cape in the first place. He would have gone through the normal life of a teenaged boy before going into the military or the police force. But instead, like his mentor, he chose the vigilante path. If he cared so much about his surrogate family, then he wouldn't have lied to them.

_Then again, _I thought grimly, _I lied to my loved ones as well. And look where that got me…_

"Not like you would understand how I care about them," Robin said, looking away. "You can't make me do anything."

"On the contrary, Robin, I've manipulated you up to this point. You know that."

I hardly had to lift a finger to get him to follow me. I played on his obsession to win, to solve each and every case regardless of the consequences. I think he realized that I was manipulating him once he came to meet me yesterday. There was going to be a fine line between teaching him how to manipulate people and being careful not to be manipulated by him. Save for Starfire, he managed to convince the rest of his team that he was someone else. That took some skill.

"You can't torture me into working for you," he said. "I…nothing you can do to me will make me change my mind."

"Who said anything about torture?"

"I…well…" He looked uncomfortable. "You beat me up yesterday."

"That hardly counts are torture. You deserved it."

"Don't justify what you do, Slade. It's still wrong."

"I don't need to justify what I do to make myself feel better about it. Do you, Robin?"

Indeed. Monetary gain was my only goal. Screw morals. I don't consider myself the bad guy. I'm just trying to make a name for myself in this godawful world. It doesn't matter how one goes about doing it. The end result is all the matters.

"I'm helping other people. That justifies itself."

"Of course it does."

Really, his logic was laughable. He didn't fail to catch the mockery in my voice.

"What do you get out of belittling me?" he asked. "Don't you have better things to do?"

"I'm capable of making your life hell. Don't push me to that extreme."

"Why do you want to teach me? You know _nothing _about me."

"I know more than you think. Maybe you're right and I won't be able to break you. But I can be destructive in other, more useful ways." My voice hardened. "I can hurt your friends, Robin. I can hurt the people of this city."

It was so tempting to follow through with my threat. It was so tempting to beat the snot out of him for every single snarky comment he made. Maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn't. Robin had a breaking point. Everyone did. But breaking him that way wasn't how I wanted this apprenticeship to go. Following through with my threat to hurt others would also be counter-productive. It wouldn't benefit my immediate plans.

"That's what you've been trying to do all along—"

"Whether or not other people will get hurt is up to you, Robin. I'm capable of many things, as are you." I put my hands behind my back. "I haven't done anything yet to hurt your precious city, but don't try to stop me if I do."

"You assume a lot."

"That's because I'm usually right."

One of the most important things about this apprenticeship would be for me to be logical. Robin doesn't expect villains to be logical. I had to remember that the majority of the villains Robin has dealt with aren't logical. Most Gotham villains aren't even sane. Me, I'm sane. I don't create destruction for destruction's sake, and neither do I commit violence for violence's sake. Everything has a purpose. While I must admit that my temper can sometimes get…out-of-control…I wouldn't torture Robin. I'd never do it on purpose.

He looked up at me, his brow furrowing. "I don't want to learn anything from you. Why teach me if I don't want to learn?"

"I think you'd be surprised at what you can learn from me," I said. "Or are you scared to agree because you'll know that the big black bat would disapprove?"

He stared at me for a few seconds before avoiding my gaze again. I filled in the silence with other words, words that I knew would bite deeply.

"He wouldn't like it…you becoming Red X. That's a line he wouldn't cross. " I suddenly thought of something. I knew it wasn't true, but it would annoy Robin. "I've always wondered, Robin: is he your father?"

Something within him snapped. His hand flicked towards his waist, as though he meant to grab something from his non-existent utility belt. When he grasped air his fingers threatened to form fists.

"What do you know?" Robin demanded. "Nothing. You don't know anything about him, so don't pretend that you do."

"What's wrong?" I asked, my tone mocking. "I always thought you worshipped him."

"Well then, you thought wrong!" He spat. "He's none of your business!"

His hands began to curl into fists. I could see the whole situation unfolding before my very eyes. If I allowed him to start a fight I knew that it would only fuel my temper. I couldn't have that.

"Don't you _dare_ start another fight," I growled. "Trust me: you won't go far. Just like all the other times…"

"I'm already sick of your mind games!" Robin's fists began to shake. "And why should I trust you?"

For the first time since he arrived I didn't know how to respond. I always kept telling him that he would have to convince me to trust him—but how could he do that if he couldn't learn how to trust me? At that moment I didn't have an answer for him.

"I meant to keep you in the dark a lot longer," I said, "but I have a schedule to keep. You want a chance to fight a fair fight? A chance to beat me? Then train with me tomorrow morning. If you still intend on betraying me, learning everything about me, then what better way than to work for me?"

Even with the mask on his face I could see that he felt conflicted. Even if he didn't believe it, I would give him a fair chance to beat me. I only offered him this because I knew that I would be able to beat him. Sure, he posed a threat, but only because of his potential. However, I wouldn't let him know that he posed such a threat.

Seconds stretched into a minute. Still, he didn't respond. In a way, silence was good: that meant that he felt inner conflict.

"If you prefer to give me the silent treatment, then by all means entertain me."

"Fine."

Robin crossed his arms resolutely over his chest. Even so, he sounded hesitant. I knew that his imprisonment all day in silence had already unnerved him. The silence would dig into him, and force him to talk even if he didn't want to. If he didn't want to talk, then I wouldn't make him.

You see, Robin's not a part one of my contracts. I didn't hunt him down to kill him. I needed someone with brains, someone who could handle the kind of training I went through as a young man. He's a human being. A kid, really. Teenagers are moody. I know from experience. If I honestly wanted to get through to him, to get him thinking like me, then I needed to play his emotions. At the very least I needed to get him to sympathize with me.

_But I'm not telling him my personal life story, _I thought. _That's going too far. _

I knew that I wasn't doing a good job of getting him to sympathize with me. It didn't take a genius to realize that he had no reason to believe everything I told him. Why should he, if he sees me as the villain? A captor? Still, eventually he would begin to understand why I was doing this to him.

"It may seem bad now, Robin," I said, "but trust me: you'll learn to like it."

While a malevolent tone would have been fun (just to mess with him) I didn't speak malevolently. Instead, I spoke conversationally. I had to deconstruct every single preconception that Robin had of the big bad villain. Considering his past, it would be difficult.

But it wouldn't be impossible.

I walked past him, intending to let Wintergreen handle him while he thought about my proposition. I had work to do. It seemed as though I always had work to do. Robin didn't move. He just stood there, still trying to comprehend what was happening to him. If it didn't sink in that he was going to learn, whether he wanted to or not, then it would tomorrow after training.

"I'm not a waste of space, Slade."

He said this very quietly, so quietly that I almost missed it. My one eye searched his face as I wondered where that comment came from. My first inclination was to mock him, but that wouldn't be the right response.

"I said that you're a waste a time, not a waste of space."

He looked startled that I obliged to reply. Or perhaps he was startled that I replied so civilly. I don't think I'll ever know for sure.

"Does Batman think you're a waste of space?" I asked. "Is that why you left Gotham?"

He didn't respond. I didn't expect him to. I placed a hand on his shoulder and made him look at me. For the first time in minutes he looked so incredibly weak. So insecure. I never felt as insecure as he did when I was his age. But he wasn't me. He wasn't Batman either. I had to remember that.

"You have potential, Robin. You have a brain that got you this far. That doesn't make you a waste of space. When you don't apply that potential then you're a waste of time."

Somehow, I got the impression that I got through to him. He allowed the words to sink into him without trying to insult me. How long has it been since someone encouraged him like that? I suspected that Wayne's butler took on a paternal role in Wayne's absence, but Robin's relocation to Jump City made him alone. Sure, his teammates praised him simply because he was…well…_Robin. _But there was more going on between Batman and Robin, more that Robin would never talk about with his teammates.

Robin was very messed up. While I know that I'm nowhere near a saint I know where my morals lie. Robin could very easily be persuaded to think differently. I smiled underneath my mask.

This was going rather well.

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><p><strong>AN: **

Again, I feel as though my chapters are more successful when written from Slade's POV. Action will come soon, I promise! And…uh…looking back on this I think you can tell I'm in a logic class of sorts right now. DERP.

Also, for those of you following the DC reboot, Slade is coming out with his own title (under "Deathstroke") later this month. I think I'll go pick up a copy of issue 1. I'm intrigued because Slade hasn't had his own title for a while. Depending on my money situation, I may only be picking up 2 or 3 titles. Probably only one. But at the very least I should get the first Nightwing and Deathstroke titles. That's my plan.

Review!

P.S: No beta-reading requests now, please. I can't take any.


	7. Silence

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Teen Titans.

**A/N: **Wow…I was late. Again, I'm sorry because I'm on the verge of work overload.

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><p>Chapter 7: Silence<p>

I knew that he was going to make me come out, no matter what I said or did.

I didn't want to say anything. He already messed with my head and I couldn't let him do it anymore. Once Slade started egging me on yesterday it hit me: he wanted to teach me.

I guess deep down I knew that was the answer. But it seemed so absurd that I didn't even want to consider it. Why should I? No other villain has ever demanded this of me before. I don't think Bruce ever prepared me for this kind of a villain.

What on earth had I possibly done to make Slade want me as an apprentice? Is that why he screwed with my head all this time? To test me? Who knows? I don't think I'll ever understand Slade. Maybe that's a good thing.

As I woke up the next morning I lay there, trying to sort out what was going on in my mind. Honestly, the thought about being Slade's apprentice…working for him…terrified me. There was nothing in that career path for me. I couldn't see myself being happy, not even if I wanted to work for him.

To my surprise, I did feel rested. I don't know why, because I shouldn't be in this place. This morning I felt calm. Far calmer than I did yesterday, that's for sure. I shouldn't feel calm, but for some reason I felt as though my conversation with Slade yesterday helped calm me down. That's rather frightening, if you really think about it.

Figuring that "training" with Slade was better than sitting in here all day, I followed Wintergreen's direction when he walked into the room. After a light breakfast I walked into a different room, one that obviously functioned as a gym.

Slade was waiting for me. He tossed me a bo-staff. I caught it silently, not caring that he was obviously pissed.

"You're late."

Really? He was going to lecture me again?

"Do I look like I care?"

"You should care."

"Well, I don't." I twirled the bo-staff and didn't look at him. This certainly wasn't mine, but it was just as good. "I'm fashionably late."

"Another reason why Batman kicked you out?"

This time the comment didn't catch me off guard. Now it was obvious that Slade was going to keep pushing that button. Maybe it was because it hurt. A lot.

"It's a lot more complicated than that. I don't expect you to understand."

"On the contrary, Robin: I do."

He lunged at me with the bo-staff. I retreated quickly and parried the bo-staff away from my face. In the few seconds that I had I whipped my bo-staff straight back at him. He blocked the blow and began to advance again.

"Your technique is quite good, but you do lack patience."

I grunted in response. I swear if I could see his face, he would probably be rolling his eye at me. However, I didn't fight with as much gusto as I did before. Now that I was fighting Slade more and more I learned from my mistakes. While I knew that it would be a while before I could pick up most of his fighting habits it seemed as though he had already picked up mine. While not as cruel as he was the day before, he didn't fail to hit me every time I made a mistake.

It was almost like training with Bruce again.

He slammed his bo-staff into my side, knocking the wind of me. Before I had time to counter-attack he kicked my legs out from underneath me. I fell to the floor, my bo-staff clattering beside me. For some reason, Slade waited for me to get up.

_I really can't beat him, _I thought, using the time to catch my breath for bit, _he's too strong. I need my friends…_

"I'm not like him, you know," Slade said. He held out his hand. "Get up."

I snatched the bo-staff and stood up. I didn't need his help.

"I hope you're not like him," I spat. "You can never replicate what he did for me. Ever."

What did Slade hope to accomplish? He can't seduce me to the dark side, but if he did…if he did then it would be the biggest insult to the Dark Knight. Was this about Batman, then? Was he trying to get to Batman through me? Or was this really about me?

"What do you want in life, Robin?" Slade asked. "If you do happen to put me in jail…which I doubt…what then? Crime will continue to happen regardless of your intention to stop it. So why bother?"

"Why should I believe anything you tell me?" I demanded. "If my friends don't trust me, then I want to hear it from them."

I threw the bo-staff to the ground. I wasn't going to learn from him. Whatever his future plans were, I wasn't going to help him commit crime. Both of us stared at the bo-staff until Slade broke the silence.

"Pick it up."

I didn't even care. He didn't deserve a response. I folded my arms over my chest and stood resolutely still.

"I'm not going to tell you again: Pick. It. Up."

Just to piss him off, I kicked the bo-staff away. Even then I knew that it was a mistake. To tell you the truth, I misjudge people all the time. Even though I've fought Slade before I still didn't know his capabilities. For example, Slade moved fast.

Way fast.

His bo-staff smashed into me before I could even begin to move. Slade forced me to back up quickly. My back touched the wall as he pushed the tip of his bo-staff against my neck. It occurred to me that, even with his great dramatic reveal about this apprenticeship, that he was psychotic. I raised my hands—it was clear that I wouldn't win this one.

"I could kill you so easily. Bash your brains in. Or maybe break your neck," Slade mused. "Even with a weapon as simple as a staff. Taking a human life is so easy…have you ever been tempted to take a life, Robin?"

My lips twisted into a grimace as I lied, "No."

_You're crazy, _I thought. _Bruce would never threaten me like this. _

After a moment he lowered the bo-staff. My hands dropped to my side. I don't think I was bleeding anywhere, but jeez…I could already feel the bruises forming. I was going to be in a world of hurt tomorrow morning.

"Lesson number one, Robin: _never _allow your opponent an advantage. Even Batman—"

_"Will you just shut up about Batman?" _

Slade had mentioned Bruce one too many times. No matter how much I tried to ignore it, I knew that Slade was deliberately pushing my buttons. But Slade could never understand what Batman means to me.

"Have I hit a nerve, Robin?" Slade asked quietly. "Why don't you want to talk about Batman?" When I didn't reply he continued to speak. "You also never answered my question: is he your father?"

_No…_I thought, _he can't possibly know how I feel about that. I guess it's not so strange…everyone thinks he's my dad…it's a common misconception…_

Still, the question, like it did yesterday, hit me hard. Mentally, I told myself earlier that I wasn't going to let him get to me…but now…

"No."

"No? Do you mean 'no' as in you've mentally separated yourself from your father, or 'no' or as in he's not your biological father?"

"Why…why are you asking me this?"

There was no way to hide the hesitancy in my voice.

"I'm just being curious."

_Never allow your opponent the advantage. _

But Slade already had the advantage. I unwittingly gave it to him by my reactions to his comments about Batman. He knew that Batman was a touchy subject for me. Then again, most of the Titans knew that too…

"Do you feel as though you have to impress him?" Slade asked. "By catching me?"

I couldn't tell him to stop. That would only make it worse. But what could I do? My silence only encouraged him to keep talking, which I didn't want. Either way, it seemed as though I wouldn't be able to stop him. My eyes never left his face as I stood there, frozen, afraid of what he was going to say next. Just how much did he know?

"I've met him once or twice. Not personally, of course, but still…I admit that he's a force to be reckoned with. He's almost as good as I am."

He met the Justice League? And he's run into Batman before? How? Was that a mission that Bruce didn't want me to tag along in, or a mission with the Justice League? With these questions rolling around in my head I almost didn't hear Slade's next question.

"Was it hard to live up to those expectations that people placed in you because of him?"

Yes, yes it is hard. People always expect great things from me because I'm Batman's protégée. But at the same time they treat me differently because I'm a kid. Slade just kept on talking.

"You can't beat him. You sure as hell won't beat me."

Slade bent down and picked up my bo-staff. He threw it carelessly at me, and I almost dropped it. My hands shook as I forced them to grip the bo-staff. Why did I feel so nervous?

"When you don't do something well, you're insulting yourself," Slade said. "You know you can do better. You're capable of doing better."

_Of course I'm capable of doing better, you jerk. _

"Was his training difficult, Robin?" Slade asked. "Did you ever feel like you lived up to his standards?"

My instincts screamed at me to leave, but I couldn't turn my attention away from Slade. I could only listen.

"He kicked you out, didn't he? He didn't want you to be his partner because you couldn't live up to his standards. Did you start this team to protect this city, or because you wanted to spite him? To prove something to him?"

_"SHUT UP!" _

It came out of my mouth before I could stop myself. With that single word I condemned myself. I wanted him to stop talking. I began to back away, but he grabbed a fistful of my shirt and yanked me back.

"You can't run away from your problems, Robin. You can't keep avoiding the obvious questions."

I tried. I tried so hard not to let him get to me. But I was failing miserably.

"So what happened between you two? Why doesn't he trust you anymore?"

My mouth opened to answer, but I shut it quickly. Slade didn't deserve an answer. It wasn't something I even talked about with my friends, so why should I tell my greatest enemy? Still, it was so ingrained in me to answer an adult truthfully…

"It wasn't my fault," I whispered.

"It was your fault. You should have walked away first. You should have said something sooner. You let him walk all over you. " I said nothing to this. I merely stood there, terrified, as he continued to lecture. "You trusted him. And he betrayed your trust, so you left. Isn't that right?"

_ I did trust him, _I thought, _I trusted him with my life. He said that he would keep me safe. He said that I would be his partner…that…that…_

Slade shrugged when I didn't respond.

"If you decide to stay a cape, then you're going to have to get past me," Slade said. "You're going to have to be ruthless if you want to escape. More ruthless than Batman ever taught you to be."

Forcing me to the dark side…no, I wouldn't let him. But if I was going to be ruthless, then I could only assume that Slade was going to be as equally—if not more so—ruthless. Could I do it? Right now I wanted nothing more than to get out of here.

"Batman didn't teach you to protect yourself. Why else are you here?

"That's a lie!"

"Batman doesn't appreciate you. Your friends take you for granted, so they don't appreciate you. The city doesn't appreciate you."

"I'm not looking for recognition." My voice wavered. "I don't want it."

"Don't lie." Slade smirked, or at least I thought that he did under his mask. "You can't ask for your friends to save you. They don't trust you. You can't ask Batman to save you. He doesn't care. And if he's not your father then why should he?"

I had no answer for him. How was it that in a few minutes he completely turned the conversation against me? His questions forced me to come to the conclusion that everything I thought and believed was wrong; even though I knew that they weren't true. His questions reverberated inside my inside like laundry tumbling in a dryer. They were incessant…maddening.

"I'm sure your real parents would have wanted him to raise you better."

That did it. Even if I wanted to fight, I don't think I could have made myself fight. Slade's words just sounded so…right. Every suppressed thought I harbored towards Bruce just slipped out into the open. Would my parents have wanted me to become a super-hero? Was that the kind of life they wanted me to live? Was it ever my fault that I got myself into this mess?

I didn't know, so I answered him with silence. And thus my apprenticeship with Slade began.

I had no intention of staying in this for very long. No one ever does. But a combination of guilt and terror made me stay. I couldn't go back out and face my friends. Not after what I did. There was something about Slade's words that made me believe he knew so much about me. More than I wanted him to know.

And what else could I do? Not only were my nerves at an end because of my little chat session with Slade, but he also had the power to keep me here. So I did what I could only do: endure and hope for the best while I figured out a way to escape.

I don't know what was worse: being dragged out every morning to be used as Slade's personal punching bag or being locked up when I wasn't training. The hours spent locked in my room were annoyingly quiet. There was nothing for me to do. I couldn't entertain myself.

I was so used to being surrounded by people. Even if I was in my room at Titans Tower I could still hear Beast Boy or Cyborg playing video games. I could hear Raven's chanting. I even missed Starfire's occasional Tamaranean folktunes. At least in Wayne Manor I could talk to Alfred when I was bored. And as a child in the circus there were always people to talk to or to play with. Here, there was no one.

Silence permeated every part of my life here. I found it strange that Slade didn't talk to me anymore, especially after that last lecture. It was hard to decide whether or not I appreciated the fact that he left me alone. He was supposed to be teaching me, right? So why wasn't he talking to me, even while we were training? He just kind of...sparred with me until I couldn't handle it anymore or when he got bored. Mealtimes were quiet. If he gave me an assignment then I would do it quietly while he worked. I was supposed to be seen and not heard. Sometimes, though, the silence was almost deafening.

Silence is maddening because it leaves me to dwell on my thoughts. Eventually my anger subsided as I realized that the situation wasn't going to get better. No one was coming to save me. With nothing to distract me I could only concentrate on the mistakes I made.

Days slipped by. I swear that Slade was messing with me in subtle ways. The clocks weren't on the same time. I haven't seen real sunlight in days. Whenever I was in the main room the gears clicked endlessly. It would drive anyone crazy. However, I wasn't dumb enough to ask questions. For now.

I needed to get out.

Sometimes I felt an overwhelming urge to claw at the walls, to make noise so that anyone…_someone…_would hear me. But I didn't do it because I knew it would be useless. It became so bad that I wanted Slade or Wintergreen to talk down to me. But there was nothing to talk about. I mean, with Bruce there was always something to talk about. I knew him. We had a connection. Slade and I, we can't connect. It was the same with Wintergreen. He seemed much kinder than Slade and made an effort to make me feel better about all this, but again what is there to talk about?

With Slade I could always assume that, when he did talk to me, it was only to order me around. I would insult him and he would retaliate, but he didn't beat me like the first day. I guess…I don't know…it wasn't so bad as it could have been. In a way, I felt as though I couldn't talk to Slade because I felt so intimidated. I couldn't help but feel so very small compared to him. Well, I hadn't felt that way at first. Slade held this aura of awesome power, rather like Batman. Well, there I go again comparing the two. There shouldn't be any comparison. Bruce is so different. So much kinder. He would have never done this to anyone.

Slade was dangerous. He was _so _dangerous. And I was scared of him. Call me weak, call me a coward, but that's what I felt: fear. Fear of what he could do to my friends and fear to what he could do to me. While he didn't beat me every day it was clear that he could. What made it terrifying was the fact that he could snap at any moment.

I hugged my knees to my chest. Never, in my whole life, had I ever felt so alone. And even though I've spent so much time here already I still have no idea what Slade was planning to do. But I found that I was beginning to care less and less about what Slade was up to. What business did I have in this hero business? I was just a kid. I have other personal problems to deal with.

But like it or not I was already involved in the hero business. Batman dragged me into it, and now I was in the employ of the world's deadliest super-villain. Was it my fault that I was here, or was Batman the root of all of my problems?

I really didn't know.

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><p><strong>AN: **Hmm…I'm trying to see how far I can push my mindscrewing abilities. I'm sorry that most of these chapters have been conversation. At the same time I have no regrets.

Review!


	8. Interlude 1: Gone

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Teen Titans.

**A/N: **So I know that I said that I wouldn't include this kind of POV…but I did anyway. By popular demand. I'm sorry. I lied. Don't worry, though: this POV will appear sparsely. I'm sorry if I disappointed anyone with this, but even I need a break from the angst.

Thanks for being patient.

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><p>Interlude 1: Gone<p>

**Searching. Formulating a plan. **

**Should we call Batman?**

**Leaders.**

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><p><strong>-Cyborg- <strong>

** Forty-eight hours. **

At this point I could say that we were in a state of emergency. Sad to say, we didn't make much of Robin's disappearance until late yesterday morning. Contrary to popular belief, Robin was an introverted guy. He was the only person on the team who wore a mask, who kept his civilian identity a secret. If he had to go do something, we usually didn't ask why.

Whenever Robin wasn't around the leadership fell onto my shoulders. Technically, I was the oldest Titan, but Robin was the leader because he had the most experience. But this wasn't like the time Robin went missing when we fought the HIVE.

Back then, we weren't much a team. The HIVE so easily defeated us without Robin there to lead us. Sometimes I wonder if we would have defeated the HIVE kids at all if Robin didn't show up. He may not have superpowers, but he had the know-how to make a plan.

I'm not like him; I wasn't trained by the world's greatest detective. I'm the mechanic on the team, but now I was the leader. I had to think like Robin. Find out what happened. But, like everyone else, I had absolutely no idea what to do. Robin just disappeared overnight. He left no note, no message. He didn't tell anyone that he left, so we could only assume foul play.

So what the hell happened to him?

I checked the security logs and frowned. Security was down for two minutes at around midnight two days ago. Someone slipped out. If Robin went out by himself, was he trying to hide the fact that he left the Tower? Or did someone break into the Tower?

_Hm. Someone breaking through my security…_

I didn't want to think about it, but I always had to keep that possibility open. It would be stupid not to. My metal fingers drummed against the wall as I tried to think.

"Cyborg?"

Starfire's voice hustled me away from my thoughts. We sat in the common room of Titans Tower. By now we knew that physically searching for him was useless. BB spent hours trying to find Robin's scent. Even Raven tried reaching out to him with her soul self, but to no avail. He was just _gone. _

For the hundredth time I switched on my communicator, hoping that this time, Robin would pick up.

"His communicator is still offline," I said. "Why?"

"We don't know," Raven said, "he might have slipped back into his civilian identity…?"

That was always a possibility. None of us knew who he was, but we didn't need to in order to work as a team. If he had some sort of family emergency to deal with…but…he would have told us anyway, right? He wouldn't abandon us.

"He was raised by the world's best brooder," Beast Boy said. "I'm sure he's fine."

"We can't be sure," I said. "Let's not jump to conclusions."

So we continued to look. It was like a great Easter Egg hunt, only we were searching for a person.

We started as the alarm began to sound.

"Trouble near the docks!" Raven exclaimed.

It felt wrong to leave without Robin. It felt wrong to leave without anyone. But if Robin was in trouble, then he would want us to go on without him.

"Titans, go!" I shouted.

Even that sounded wrong, coming from my lips.

**72 hours and counting.**

The police handcuffed Mumbo and began to take him away. Even for a minor villain he could still cause a lot of damage. We could handle him by ourselves.

"How did he break out of prison?" I asked aloud.

Everyone else shook their heads as a swarm of reporters overcame us. A woman stuck a microphone into my face and began to speak so quickly I almost missed her question.

"Cyborg," one of the reporters said. "Robin's been missing for days now. Where is he?"

As politely as I could, I pushed the microphone out of my face.

"That's private Titan business," I replied, "we're not talking about it."

Still, the crowd swarmed around us like a living being, pulsating with a life of its own. Why wouldn't they stop talking? Why wouldn't they listen? I didn't want to accidentally hurt someone. My bulky body moved awkwardly as I tried to get out of the way.

"Why won't you tell us where Robin is?" another reporter asked. "Is it because you don't know where he is? Is he missing?"

_"Azarath Metrion Zenthos!" _

Darkness crept over us as Raven teleported us away, back to the rooftop of Titans Tower. Beside me, Beast Boy shivered as Raven's magic passed through him. Raven hesitantly pulled her hood down. For some reason, she looked even paler than usual, if that was even possible.

"That's the only problem with being public heroes," she said. "The world won't leave us alone."

None of us said anything. It was hard not to notice Robin's disappearance. Back in the day when we first started people were more interested in Robin than in the rest of us. I guess that it couldn't be helped, since Robin used to work with Batman.

"Should we call Batman?" I asked.

Beast Boy squeaked in surprise. Even Starfire, who didn't know much about Robin's past, knew that Batman was a testy subject.

"No, we're not going to call Batman," I said. "We can do this ourselves. Besides, Robin doesn't like to talk about him. I don't think he would want us to call Batman."

I turned to look at them all. While it was nice to be the leader, I knew that Robin was the best for this team. After all, it was his idea to bring us together.

"Star?" I said. "You're quiet."

"I am worried," she replied, "That is all."

"We all are."

She looked away. Poor Star. Even I could see that she was close to Robin. She managed to make him smile. Not many people could do that nowadays.

The water rumbled. A familiar Atlantian leapt onto the rooftop of Titans Tower on a giant wave of water. He held up his communicator, which was flashing red.

"Titans," Aqualad said. "You called?"

"Yeah," I replied. "We need your help. We need all the help we can get."

If there's one thing I have to say about Robin, it's the fact that he's so well-connected with the cape community. People liked him. If he was ever in trouble everyone would come to his aid. None of us had connections like that, except for maybe Beast Boy. We would always have backup.

It was just that no one knew when the situation would get desperate enough to call Batman. Then again, he is the world's greatest detective. Sooner or later he was going to figure out how much of a mess we were in.

That wasn't going to be fun.

**Five days and counting. **

We still looked. We would keep looking until we found him. We needed our leader…and more importantly our friend…back. If he was in trouble then we had to save him.

We called the other Titans we've been in contact with, and other sidekicks we thought could help. The more people we had looking the more likely we would be able to find him. By now everyone in the cape community knew that Robin was missing. Any time now a certain Gothamite was going to give us a call. No one had to tell me this. I just knew.

Even so, I did all that I could to find clues pointing to _why _Robin disappeared. So I began to search Robin's room. Truth be told, it felt SO wrong to be going through Robin's room. As a rule, we didn't go into each other's room without permission. Well…I guess BB and I kind of broke that when we went into Raven's room, but this was different.

If Robin left the Tower without telling us and somehow got into trouble, then there may be something here that might help. As I searched I wondered how Robin handled the pressure of leading this team.

_Maybe he couldn't handle it, _I thought, _maybe he just abandoned us. _

Well, that was an unpleasant thought. Robin wouldn't abandon us, though. That would be completely out of character.

"If Robin left on his own, then where would he have gone?" I asked aloud.

No one answered me. Computers and technology can only do so much. A computer couldn't tell me why Robin left the Tower.

"What are you doing?" Starfire demanded.

I continued to search through Robin's room. It didn't help that Starfire was hovering over my shoulder. I could almost feel the air crackle with heat as she began to grow angry.

"You should not go through Robin's things!"

Straightening, I held up my hands and tried to calm her down. Sometimes Star can be as bad as Raven when she lost control of her emotions.

"I'm just looking for one thing," I said. "He's missing, Star. I'm sure he won't mind if we look through his room if it will help us find him."

Her lips trembled. For one moment I thought that she was going to yell at me. That was the last thing we needed: internal turmoil on the team.

"What's going on?"

Raven stepped into the room. She looked from me to Starfire, her expression betraying the fact that she understood what was wrong at once. I ignored them both as I began to open the drawers of Robin's desk. After a moment I finally found what I was looking for. I lifted a small, black rotund device from one of Robin's desk drawers.

"Is that…?" Beast Boy's eyes widened in disbelief. "Robin's…Bat communicator?"

Even I couldn't help but stare in awe. Batman…oh man…he was one dude I didn't want to cross. Even though we knew Robin as a friend it occasionally blew my mind sometimes that Batman practically raised him. It seemed surreal, almost, to have this link to an urban legend.

"We can't have Batman solve all of our problems!" Beast Boy said. "I mean, it's not that he isn't cool…because he is…but we should be able to do more!"

Even though Beast Boy was the youngest on the team, he could be the most optimistic when he wanted to be. I knew that he had issues with Mento, his father figure from the Doom Patrol. He probably understood why Robin had issues with Batman.

"It hasn't even been a week," Raven said. "So unless you really feel the need to ask Batman for help…"

Have we really exhausted all possible options? It hadn't even been a week since Robin disappeared, and we were already crying to Batman? Yeah, I knew that we could do better. Were we already crumbling under the pressure after a week? Admitting defeat was so hard to do. I knew that Robin had issues with it, and as a former high school athlete I had issues with it. I didn't want to ask any adults for help, because I knew that if we put our minds to it then we would be able to succeed.

But there comes a point where we have to put down our pride. Robin hadn't contacted us for five days. By now something was obviously wrong.

Pushing these ugly thoughts away, I turned to Starfire.

"Star?" Why wasn't she talking? Was she so worried that she wouldn't talk? Maybe I should talk to her….or maybe Raven should talk to her. "Are you ok?"

She looked up and nodded. Sighing, I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the couch.

"I'm not going to ask Batman for help," I said, "I just think he should know that Robin is missing."

"Then Batman will come to Jump," Raven said. "He'll take over the whole project. He'll try to fix everything himself. That's the same thing as asking him for help."

"The reporters already noticed that he's missing," I said. "Batman will come whether we invite him over or not."

That was the sad truth, then. I wanted so much to prove to everyone that I could handle this by myself. Maybe that would come another day. Robin's safety was more important than my pride. And like it or not, Batman did have a way of butting into other people's business.

I took out his Bat communicator. The others huddled around me as I turned it on. For a few seconds there was silence, albeit with slight static. After an eternity a gruff voice answered.

"Who is this?"

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><p><strong>AN: **

Again, I feel as though the chapter is "meh." **  
><strong>

On a different note, I will be liveblogging "Apprentice, Part 1" on Tumblr on Sunday night, September 25, at 9pm US Pacific time. You don't need an account to watch. You'll just have to keep refreshing my home page. It's nothing special, just me making stupid comments about the episode as I re-watch it. I don't know if I'll also live blog part 2, but one episode takes me about 2 hours to liveblog since I pause the video a lot, write stupid comments and then watch your reactions. You are also welcome to watch the episode with me and make stupid comments, although I won't be livestreaming it.

Review!


	9. Lies

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Teen Titans.

**A/N: **

Haha guys that liveblog was fun. We're doing it again next week on Sunday night, but I'm changing the time to 8pm instead of 9pm. Some of you East Coast people are in bed…

I was working all weekend. Sorry. Now the updates will come as a surprise!

Also: AnaUzumaki is looking for a beta reader. I unfortunately can't beta read anything because I'm so busy, but I'm sure one of you guys can for her!

Chapter 8: Lies

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><p><strong>Part 2: <strong>

**Your logic is unsound. Not your apprentice. **

**Lies. **

**Modus Tollens.**

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><p><strong>-SW- <strong>

"You're driving him nuts," Will said. "Is it your intention? To make him lose his mind?"

"He wanted to be left alone."

"What you're doing is psychological torture."

"I know."

It was the only way to get through to him. Besides, I was so busy that I didn't have much time to deal with him. I told Will not to talk to him. If Robin wanted to keep to himself, then he was going to find out what the real loneliness was like.

Yes, I messed with his head. I changed the clocks. I had Wintergreen move his few possessions around when he wasn't in his room. I woke him up at different hours of the morning, just to keep him disoriented. Slowly, but surely, I was going to goad him into a nervous breakdown.

Sometimes he would make a smart comment, but I usually ignored him. I didn't have time for adolescent banter. Whenever we did fight I didn't offer him praise. If he said he didn't want it, then I wasn't going to give it to him.

A week passed in silence. Even Wintergreen didn't talk to me that much. My work was so absorbing that I didn't even mind that. Training Robin wasn't at the top of my priority list. I'll admit that I momentarily forgot that he was hanging around. It happens, sometimes.

"Slade?"

Wintergreen walked into the room. Although I told him not to disturb me I didn't ask him to go away. If he had something important to tell me then he would be blunt about it. I trusted his judgment. I didn't look up as he strode next to me.

"Slade," Wintergreen said. "This is something you need to know about the boy."

"He hasn't tried to escape," I replied in a disinterested voice. "He shouldn't be too difficult to handle."

"Sir, he's not eating."

_That _caught me off guard. I stopped typing and turned in my seat to look at Wintergreen. My mask wasn't on, so he could clearly see my perplexed face.

"What?"

That single word sounded loud, even to my own ears. Maybe it was because I've been working in silence for far too long.

"He refuses to eat. He won't touch his food."

A hunger strike, then. The little twerp. He was trying to spite me however he could. I stood up and reached for my mask, which was lying on top of my desk.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Oh, since yesterday afternoon. I had hoped that the situation would resolve itself, but he's refused any kind of sustenance."

"I suppose I should address it, then," I said, my voice irritated.

Well, this would explain why he seemed a bit sluggish in training today. I should have picked up on it myself. No matter. This was going to be dealt with.

"Slade," Wintergreen began, putting a hand upon my shoulder, "know that I did try to make him see sense. Be patient with him."

"I've been patient with him enough."

Leaving Wintergreen behind me, I stomped down the hallway towards the kid's room, stopping briefly in the kitchen. I didn't even bother to knock as I walked in. Robin sat on his bed, his back pressed up against the wall and his knees brought up to his chest. He sat quite still, not even stirring when I slammed the door shut behind me.

After his morning workout he changed into jeans and a black sweatshirt. My eye quickly scanned the room. I usually gave him something to do when I left him here. Of course, his newest assignment was left untouched on his desk. Typical.

"Robin."

He didn't look up. How irritating. I repeated his name not once, but twice more. Both times he ignored me. After the third time he pulled his hood over his head and looked away from me. At this I strode forward and yanked it back down.

"Don't be disrespectful. Answer me when I talk to you."

He straightened his sweatshirt and glared at me. "Show me some respect, then."

"I'm your elder, if not your better."

"Like hell you are. Have you finally come to talk down to me?"

While I expected him to sound angry, I didn't expect him to sound _this _angry. Then I remembered that I had kept him in near-constant silence for days. That would drive anyone mad. But I was so angry that he even _dared _to defy me like this that I had to break that silence.

"You haven't been eating."

A mixture of resentment and rebelliousness flickered across his face. Of course he knew that I would eventually address this, didn't he? His stomach grumbled loudly, utterly betraying him. At this Robin shifted to a better sitting position. He scooted to the edge of the bed, still staring at the floor as he talked to me.

"So what if I haven't?"

"It's not helping me, and it damn well isn't helping you."

"It's none of your business."

Was that his answer to everything?

"You're deliberately weakening yourself, you know that?" I said. "So why are you doing it?"

"To piss you off."

So, he seemed to understand that I wasn't going to let him go: that he was an investment I couldn't afford to lose. I suddenly thought of something: if I had gone through with the plan to blackmail him, there was a serious hole in that plan: the nanobots. I had to destroy that selfless attitude of his.

Like I said before: to successfully convert him I would have to think like him. Anticipate his movements. He doesn't have that instinctive survival attitude one would expect of a mercenary. Batman taught him that idiotic mindset of placing himself before others. This sudden refusal to eat brought light to the fact that Robin was willing to place himself in harm's way for the sake of others, even if that meant killing himself to do it. If hurting or killing (god forbid, he finds a way to inject himself with the nanobots) himself would hinder my agenda, then he would do it just to spite me.

He was going to have to be more underhanded than _that _to beat me, though.

I pulled out a small can of Ensure and held it up. He allowed his arms to fall to his side as he looked cautiously at it.

"Do you know what this is?"

"Yeah."

"What is it?"

"It's a can of Ensure."

"And what is it used for?"

"For feeding hospital patients who…" he began to trail off, but eventually forced himself to finish talking. "…can't feed themselves."

"Correct." I shoved the can into his chest and allowed it to fall. Robin automatically caught it. "You will eat whatever Wintergreen gives you. Do it or I will shove a plastic tube down your throat and feed you that."

Ha. He didn't seem too keen on that idea. Robin glanced down glumly at the can. Sure, there were other threats that I could make, but I didn't want to use any more force than necessary.

"Is that understood?"

Even if he was willing to take risks, I could see that he wasn't willing to take that one. It would hurt his pride too much to be force-fed. Although I knew that it was rather a harsh law to enforce I couldn't have him starve to death. Hopefully the threat would be enough to stop him from trying that again. I didn't want to force-feed him.

Robin shut his eyes tightly for a moment before replying, "Yes, Sir."

Good boy. He was choosing his battles. Oh, I knew that he would fight back. I'd be disappointed if he didn't, but I didn't want to fight over every little thing with him.

"Good," I said, "now drink it. You must be hungry."

There. That would teach him a lesson. He didn't speak as he popped open the can and did as he was told. For once.

I didn't offer any conversation either. Silence could be just as useful as a lecture. Well, there wasn't really anything for me to say. He grimaced as he drank it. It wasn't nearly enough for him to eat, but it should at least lessen his hunger. Maybe tonight I would make sure that he would eat. How annoying. I shouldn't have to babysit him like this. Once he finished he crumpled the can. For a moment I thought he would throw it at me, but he refrained himself. He dropped it into a nearby trashcan and continued to hang his head. His endless fascination with the floor was going to have to end soon.

"You are to do whatever Wintergreen tells you to do," I said firmly. "I'll know if you don't."

"Of course you will," Robin muttered.

"You also won't go on a hunger strike again, or I'll go through with my threat. Understood?"

"Yes…Sir."

I turned to leave. I had work to do, and regardless of the fact that Robin was my apprentice he was keeping me from my work. I was already annoyed with him as it was. However, he said something that pulled me back into conversation.

"So why haven't you talked to me?" he asked. "I thought I was supposed to be your _apprentice." _

It suddenly occurred to me that he starved himself for more than one reason. Although I knew that he was starving himself just to piss me off he also wanted to talk to me. Did he mean to draw me in like this? To get me to interact with him?

_Probably, _I thought.

How intriguing. Robin was using what little power he had to try to influence me. Perhaps I could play with this.

"You are. But until you fix your attitude I will leave you here in silence."

"That doesn't make sense. If I'm your apprentice, then you should want to talk to me."

Although he didn't say it, his words practically screamed "Batman!" He was comparing me to his old mentor. Not surprised. Why wouldn't he do that? While the Bat is formidable in his own way I was obviously the superior fighter.

"I only assumed that you would want me to leave you alone. I supposed I guessed wrong."

Surprise flew across his face. Why did he act so surprised? Was it because I hinted at the fact that I actually cared about how he felt? His brow furrowed as he thought of a reply.

"You are a terrible people person."

"We all are, in our own ways."

He stopped staring at the floor to look at me. Somehow, I got the sense that he didn't want a fight. Not unless I goaded him, of course. Did he want to talk?

"Slade, do you know what the definition of 'apprentice,' is?"

Hmm, where could he possibly be going with this?

"Do enlighten me."

"Back in the olden days an apprentice would be sold to a master for a specific price. He would be indentured to his master and legally obliged to be his servant." He glared at me. "That is, until he served his contract. But the kid could be carted around like a piece of property while serving under his master. What kind of a relationship is that? Not one that I want, you can be sure of that. I'm not your apprentice, Slade. I never will be, no matter how matter times you say it."

How cute. Robin was trying to mess with my mind. Like I said before, his arguing skills needed improvement. However, he did have a point: I couldn't mentor him if we didn't talk.

"The choice is entirely up to you."

"You're not giving me much of a choice."

"Did Batman give you a choice?"

He glared coldly at me, his lips tugging into a frown. "Yes, he did."

I'll admit it: I knew little about Robin's past with Batman. It didn't take a genius to see that the two of them had a falling out shortly before Robin left Gotham. Most of what I said was merely guesswork. Even if I thought I was wrong I just talked confidently, as though I _did _know what I was talking about.

"Hard to argue with _him, _though," I said. "Wasn't his word law?"

Robin stiffened at these words. Perhaps I was beating the subject of Batman down to a bloody pulp, but as long as it would hurt Robin then I was going to keep doing it. When he stopped responding to it then I would move on to another tactic. But since he kept getting agitated over it I said it again.

"Hard to argue with you too, Slade," Robin spat. "Go away."

To be honest, I didn't expect to give him a lecture today. But perhaps it was time to drive everything home. Robin had no business ordering me around. In fact, he had no business to try and fight me when it was so obvious who was going to win. But I didn't go away.

"Were you carted off as a kid?" I asked. "Always being bossed around? Bats was your breaking point, wasn't he?"

"No."

"No? Your parents are dead, aren't they?" I asked, not really meaning it to be a question. "So why did you put on the cape, huh? Was it to impress Batman? I'm sure your parents wouldn't have wanted this kind of life for you."

Hm. Robin seemed to be picking up the habit of not responding when asked a question. I grabbed his shoulder and shook him slightly.

"Silence isn't an answer, boy."  
>"Stop it." He didn't sound confident. "Slade, stop it..."<p>

"Then why don't you tell me the truth?"

"I just..."

"Or did Batman not teach you how to do that as well?"

"He's not..."

"He failed to protect you, didn't he? Come on, talk to me: what really happened between you two?"

_"I don't want to talk to a jerk like you!"_

So far I hadn't been too violent. Well, by my standards at least. Now he looked like he wanted to avoid a talk. I couldn't have that. I grabbed his chin and forced him to look at me.

"Hey," I said, "look at me."

He strained to get away. Both of us struggled not to throw the first punch. He wanted to fight so badly, but by now he understood that it would be futile. What good would it accomplish if he tried? Me, however…even if Robin started the argument I would always be in control. He knew that. I knew that. So for a few seconds we stood at this stand still, the room filled with awkward tension as we both tried to control our tempers.

"Do you think you can just walk away?" I demanded. "And not face the truth?"

"Yes."

I slapped him across the face. "Wake up, Robin."

He was shaking. Whether it was in fear or anger I don't think I'll ever know. Sometimes those two emotions were interchangeable in him. Me, I didn't feel fear. And if I did then I was sure to hide it, as I would soon teach him how to do as well. No matter how much Robin tried to hide his fears and insecurities his actions betrayed everything. No matter how hard he tried he could never be his mentor. Deep down, he probably knew that.

And I knew that as well. My goal with this apprenticeship wasn't to mold him into a smaller, younger version of me. If he was ever going to be a fully-fledged mercenary he would have to discover how he worked well. Yes, I would impose my own harsh standards on him. Why? Because adversity brings out the best and the worst in people, and I intended to bring out the best in him.

"Face it, you can't keep running away from your problems. You ran away from Gotham. You ran away from your friends. No wonder no one trusts you."

Like always, he threw the first punch.

Although I expected him to fight, I was disappointed that he didn't choose another time. This was a small room to fight in. No one should start a fight if he knows that he's cornered. Situational awareness was something we definitely needed to work on.

Starving himself really wasn't going to do him any good either. His fists flew at me in a wild relentless storm. If it was easy to beat him down before then this was child's play. His movements were uncoordinated. True, his increasingly unstable emotional state probably wasn't helping. In two short moves I had him incapacitated.

I grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. Hm. He never learned, did he? This was in no way a beatdown—no, if I truly needed to do that then he would never trust me. But if talking wasn't going to do him any good, then I wasn't going to hold my punches. A soft whimper escaped from his lips as I twisted his arm harder. His knees began to buckle, but he forced himself to keep standing. It hurt. I knew it did. But I didn't care.

"Why don't you cry?" I asked, my voice a sneer. "Cry for your friends. Cry for the Bat. No one's coming here to save you."

Again, he said nothing. Being patronizing would get to him. He hated it. Well, any teenager would hate it. I know that I did. As I watched him struggle to control his shaking I wondered if I could make him cry. Was that what I wanted to do? No. Would it help me turn him against his mentor?

Yes, it would.

"I know."

His voice sounded strangled, a bit higher than usual. With my other hand I grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head upwards.

"You know what?"

"…"

"Say it."

I let go and shoved him away. In a split second he turned around, his cheeks flushed with anger.

_"God Slade, stop it!" _he shouted. _"Why can't you just murder me like all the other villains?" _

He backed away from me and looked down at the floor, as though ashamed of the outburst. Something about his stance suggested that he was afraid of getting hurt again. As a mercenary, I hunt down people. I know fear when I see it. He was afraid of me. I didn't want him to fear me like a beaten dog. Rather, if he was to fear me, then it would be in a God-fearing way. I brushed away imaginary dust from my arm as I answered in a calm voice.

"Because I'm not like the others."

Even through the mask I could see his expression of disbelief.

There was nowhere for him to run. I didn't bring him to the main room to talk because this time I wanted him to feel trapped. I wanted him to confront all of the lies Batman shoved down his throat. He needed to be brought to his senses. He wanted to leave. I could tell. But I wasn't going to let him run away.

"Give up, Dick," I said. "You're not going to win."

I suppose that I expected a more explosive reaction from him, but to my surprise he said nothing. It was as if he expected me to know his secret identity. Or perhaps I had bombarded him with so much that he was past the point of caring. Maybe I should have waited to reveal that bit of information…

"I know everything. And if that hasn't been clear before, then I'm making it clear now. Accept my help. Accept everything. That's the only way you'll be able to overcome it."

Neither of us spoke for a long time. This time I didn't leave him alone. I already gave him plenty of time to think this through. While I was already putting him through training he only did it because I told him to. He only did it so that he wouldn't get hurt. But he has to stop thinking that way: that everything I did was intended to hurt him. No, it was all intended to make him a better person.

I allowed him to gather his thoughts. He was still trying to take all of this information in, but he couldn't cling to shock forever. Even though I addressed him by his name he ignored it. It was as though he was trying to deny the fact that I knew everything about him. Denial was going to get him nowhere and would only hinder his progress. However, in light of his current predicament, I allowed the matter to pass.

"Even if you're right," Robin said quietly, "that still doesn't make me want to be your apprentice."

Now I was getting irritated. More irritated than usual. He turned to me. "I still believe that they'll bail me out. They're heroes, after all. But even after this…whatever you just did to me…there's still no way I would e_ver _want to work for you."

"You're still _not _in a position to negotiate this."

"So you're going to beat me until I listen to you?"

"If I must, yes."

"That's no why to gain anyone's trust."

"The benefits outweigh everything else."

"That's not the way I see it."

"If I told you that I wouldn't let you eat until you sign a written contract, then would you do it?"

"No."

"An unwise decision. Why not?"

A slight smirk played on his lips. It flew past so quickly that I almost missed it. It gave me the impression that Robin knew something I didn't know, and that no matter how hard I pressed him he wouldn't say what it was. However, I said nothing about it. Perhaps I should be more cautious around him from now on. I smirked.

"I expect you to be ready to spar within an hour," I said.

"Screw you, Slade."

"Manners, Dick. Keep the mask if you want, but you can't hide from me forever."

Although he didn't say anything, I knew that calling him by his first name was irritating him. Eventually he was going to ask me to stop, however it seemed as though he didn't want to bring attention to it. Fine. He could do whatever he wanted about that.

I needed to blur the line between hero and villain. He had already done part of that himself. Forcing him to cross the line would eventually make him realize that there is no line. He is who he is, not some imaginary identity he made for himself or others. While I did hide my own identity from him it was more to mess with his head than anything else. If he could deduce my identity, then fine. His detective skills would finally be put to good use. But until then, he wouldn't know who I was until I decided to reveal my secret identity to him.

"I suggest you take the mask off. Do you know why?" I didn't wait for him to respond. "Because if you truly want to step out of Batman's shadow, then you're going to have to take off that mask and leave Robin behind. You're going to have to rediscover yourself."

The Robin identity was part of the Batman mythos. If he really wanted to break away from his old mentor, then he needed to create a new identity for himself. Red X was intended to betray, intended to deceive. The Red X mask hid his face. Aside from that alien girl, no one knew that it was Robin behind the mask.

When Robin—Dick—was ready to make his debut I wanted the whole world to know who was working for me. Whether he liked it or not he _was _born for the center ring. This may not be the same as a circus performance, but he was born to be in the spotlight. He was born to do bigger and better things. Wayne never gave the kid enough credit. Dick folded his arms over his chest.

"You captured me as a Titan," Dick said, "It's going to stay that way until I escape, Slade."

Sometimes I wondered just how intertwined his civilian identity and his Robin identity were. When he spoke, who did he speak as? As the orphaned circus boy or as the Batman's protégée? How intriguing. As I listened to him speak I tried to distinguish between the two.

"Stop thinking of this as an imprisonment. It's not."

"I don't need to be re-educated."

"It's not re-education. It's enlightenment."

"Call it what you want. You're not fooling me."

"On the contrary, I think I am." I laughed quietly. "Or perhaps you're fooling yourself."

Try as he might to sway me to the "light" side, he knew that it would never work. I have years of experience behind me. Even with all of the experience he's had, that still doesn't excuse the fact that he's young. I knew what my morals were. Dick didn't know what to think. He wanted to think of himself as the hero, but his actions said otherwise. This denial of his darkside wasn't good for his health.

"Even if you escape, what then?

"I'd put you in prison."

"But just like everyone else, I'd escape. If I were in the Bat's position, I wouldn't just subdue criminals. I would eliminate them…_permanently." _

"But—"

"As much as I would love to continue this conversation you, unfortunately, are not my top priority. Feel free, however, to discuss these things with me at a more appropriate time."

He needed to start the conversation. Anything he said I would be able to turn against him. To an extent, he understood that I had the power to do that. But if a person is lonely enough he will eventually want to talk. For the past week I've been playing on that simple emotion. I know from experience that it can drive a person to madness.

I was going to stop it just before it came to that, though.

"I hate you."

"Hate is such a strong word. I'd prefer that you not use loaded language in my presence." I stepped out of the room and began to close the door. "Save your frustration for the gym."

Maybe he would be silent for the rest of the day, or maybe he wouldn't. There's only so much that I can predict. Whatever the case, I would improvise slightly as I went along.

Already I could see the seeds of doubt blooming in his mind. While I accepted the fact that it would take some time for him to let go of Wayne, I couldn't wait forever. I'd have to speed up the process as best as I could.

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><p><strong>AN: **Erm…I got bombarded with the history of apprenticeships in BOTH my colonial America class and my British novel class. So I thought that I should share. :D

Also, I know that some of you don't communicate with me/don't follow my Tumblr to know when my sporadic updates will be now, since most of you don't have an account. I did make a forum in the TT forums here on FF (under Shenanigans), so if you feel more comfortable asking questions there you are welcome to post. You may also use the forum to talk about this fic.

Later!


	10. Chats

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Teen Titans.

**A/N: **This is the semester from hell. D: That is all. Go read now.

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><p>Chapter 9: Chats<p>

I was done.

There comes a point when people just don't want to deal with anything—or anyone—anymore. There's a difference between left alone and being neglected, and unfortunately I wanted to be left alone. Not here in the Haunt. I wanted to be outside so badly.

I didn't want to be left in silence again. At least when Slade talked I could figure him out. I could take a guess as to what made him angry or happy. But the more the silence thundered between us the more paranoid I got. What would set him off? If he did explode, what could I do or say to make him stop?

Funny, isn't it, how quickly one assimilates to these things? Changing your actions and words to fit the temperament of someone else? It becomes second nature in a situation like this. It was a mindset that I didn't want to fall into. God, I didn't want to think like that. But I accepted the fact that I wasn't going to win by brute force alone. I would have to escape by other means. And that meant that, for now, I was going to have to play by Slade's rules.

It was just so _hard. _

The next morning I woke up before Wintergreen had the chance to wake me. Instead of lying awake to mope I got up, dressed, and waited. Even though I've been falling into a sort of routine I had no idea how the day would play out. It was hard to tell when Slade would completely lose it and when he would be somewhat…kind. I don't know what other word to use.

"Good morning."

I mumbled an incoherent response. Wintergreen deserved more politeness than that, but I was too depressed to care. I pulled the box of cereal towards me and poured it into the bowl.

"You're eating again," Wintergreen said nonchalantly.

So, Slade was letting Wintergreen talk to me again. How nice. A bit of color rose to my cheeks as I remembered yesterday's failed hunger strike. Why the hell did I do that? That was stupid, but I didn't know what else to do. It seemed fair to reason that even if I did everything Slade wanted me to do I wouldn't learn anything about my enemy. To beat him I needed to push my boundaries and find out what pissed him off.

Honestly, I hated this. Slade was doing everything he could to control every aspect of my life, and he was doing a good job of it. If I was surprised by anything, it was the fact that Slade came to fix the situation himself so quickly. I expected the strike to last a bit longer. Maybe Slade would have let me starve out of spite.

"Yeah…" I looked down at my food and grimaced. "I guess."

Honestly, I couldn't really blame the guy for telling Slade. He was just trying to do his job. Besides, Slade would have found out anyway. I couldn't be mad at Wintergreen.

"Well, I'm glad that you've decided to eat again, Richard."

Despite myself, I winced when he said my name. Wintergreen stopped messing with the food tray and looked at me quizzically.

"You don't mind me calling you Richard, then?"

The question surprised me. I didn't expect any villain or henchmen, least of all Slade's butler, to have any sense of empathy. I put down my fork and spoke to the floor.

"No," I replied softly. "It's my name, after all."

"You do mind."

His tone wasn't accusatory. It was a fact, not a question. He knew, and there was nothing I could say to make him think otherwise. After glancing at him I nodded.

"Well, if you don't want to be called that then you need to speak up."

"Speaking up never does me any good." Could I be honest with Wintergreen? Could I trust him not to rely everything I said to Slade? Honestly, no, I couldn't. Even then, talking to Wintergreen, I had to choose my words carefully. "Besides, it doesn't matter. It's not like my words mean anything to Slade anyway."

Like talking to Alfred instead of Bruce, I did find it easier to admit things to Wintergreen that I wouldn't admit to Slade. Of course, I wasn't foolish enough to voice all of my thoughts. Wintergreen had a limit to verbal abuse as well. Even though it was probably higher than Slade's I didn't want two people pissed at me.

"There is a difference between speaking up and causing trouble. Up until this point every single word that's come out of your mouth has been to sting. To hurt."

"Like you really expected me to say anything else?" I snapped. "This is a prison."

"I know it seems like Slade's beating you down, but he doesn't want you to be this submissive."

"Ya know it's hard to tell what he wants. I'm supposed to fight back, but not when I want to escape. He's a walking contradiction, Wintergreen. I hope you realize that."

"I'm not trying to argue with you," Wintergreen said. "I know you're feeling down. You have been since you've been here."

He reminded me so much of Alfred. In that moment I felt very, very homesick. My stomach twisted into a knot, and for a few seconds I felt like vomiting. A lump formed in my throat, stopping any words I wanted to say. Wintergreen wasn't mean to me, but neither was he as kind as Alfred. Everything about this felt hollow, a sick parody of the life I had before.

And why the hell wouldn't I be feeling down? I really hated how both Slade and Wintergreen acted as if they weren't keeping me imprisoned. Like this was all some sort…I don't know…summer camp. Wintergreen stood there watching me. Why wouldn't he leave?

"You know," Wintergreen said, "if you do need anything, then don't be afraid to ask me."

The feeling passed. No matter how much I wanted to cry, I knew that it wouldn't do me any good. Heroes don't cry. Robin didn't cry. Dick Grayson on the other hand…

"What I want…" I straightened and looked at him full in the face. "You know as well as I do that I want out. I don't want to be here."

No matter how nice he was I knew that he wouldn't help me. There was only so much he could do. His expression stayed impassive. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Did he pity me? Was he annoyed? Or was he genuinely convinced that he could help me?

"Tell Slade that you don't want to be addressed by your first name. He'll listen."

My mind went on autopilot as the day wore on. It was one of the few ways I distanced myself from what was happening. I didn't want to hear what Slade had to say. In a way, that didn't help me. Although I hate to admit it I made the same mistakes over and over again. Yeah, I guess I could improve.

Even with my mind on autopilot, I occasionally snapped back to reality when Slade hit me hard enough during training sessions. A fist slammed into my face. Specks of spit and blood flew of my mouth as I fell backwards onto the floor.

"Poor quality, Dick," Slade growled, slamming another light switch on.

I blinked twice in the sudden light. Sweat stung my eyes as I snapped them open. The right side of my face began to swell. Sometimes the situation became so surreal that I began to wonder if the fights were real or not. The pain, however, was more than enough to ground me in reality.

"You're doing well enough to get by…but that's not nearly good enough."

I ran my tongue over my teeth to make sure that none of them were loose. Maybe I should ask for a mouth guard. Then again, he would probably say that those were for wussies.

"Sorry to disappoint you," I mumbled, wiping away the spit from my face with the back of my hand, "but that's all I'm trying to do: get by."

Pain shot through me as Slade replied with a boot to my gut. Curling up from the sudden pain, I rolled over onto my stomach, biting my lip to stop myself from screaming.

"You're insulting yourself with that poor attitude," Slade said, "you know you can do better. I know you can do better, so don't waste my time with this crap."

Something just confused me about all of this. He wasn't even offering me praise if I followed orders. I wanted some confirmation that I hadn't been reduced to a mere _tool. _At least the thought of me being his apprentice was better than being thought of as a tool. The former suggested that he _cared _about my well-being. Well, I highly doubt that.

Slade walked away, signaling the end of the lesson. I pushed myself to my feet and began to limp away. At that moment I wasn't even thinking about my friends or Bruce. Pain sometimes overrides everything. I just wanted a bag of ice and time to pass out on my bed. Before I got two feet away he grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me backwards.

"We're not done yet. Sit down."

He shoved a chair towards me and gestured for me to sit down. Part of me wanted to sit down. We just sparred for three hours, and as always, Slade wasn't ever kind to me. Then again, if he wanted to lecture me then he could be sure that I wasn't going to pick a fight. Not while I was so tired.

Those few seconds of contemplation didn't bode well with Slade.

"Sit. Down."

After a moment's hesitation I sat down. A lecture was coming. I could sense it. I crossed my arms over my chest and sighed quietly. What did I do wrong now? Aside from the normal backtalk, I hadn't done much today to spite him.

_I'm not going to say anything, _I thought, _I'm not going to pick a fight. Just stay calm, Grayson, no matter what he says. _

"It's been almost two weeks since your initial disappearance," he said.

"What?"

I couldn't stop myself. My jaw dropped as the realization fully hit me. Had I really been here for two weeks? That was long. Far too long for my taste. I forced myself to stay seated. All I had to do was sit through this. That wasn't so bad, was it?

"Now that I've given you some time to settle in, I feel as though it's necessary for you to know what's fully expected of you as my apprentice."

_And here we go. _

"Your attitude needs to improve. Drastically. Your backtalk is hindering your progress." Slade began to circle me. "As my apprentice you are expected to be punctual, precise and powerful."

"You have a cute acronym to make me remember that?"

"Shut up. No one knows you're here, Dick. Not even other villains."

Wintergreen's words floated back to me. Should I say something about that? I didn't want to draw attention to my name. It was one thing to call me Richard, but another to call me Dick. Dick was something only my close friends called me. No matter how much Slade knew about my personal life he still didn't know anything about me. He had no right to call me that.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't call me that."

I said it in a way that wouldn't get him angry…well…at least I tried. By this time I was surprised that he didn't make me take off the mask.

"Why?"

What was I trying to say? The fact that Slade was an exceedingly patient man irritated me. He could wait hours, days, w_eeks _to enact his dastardly plan. He caught me. He outsmarted me. I'll admit that he managed to do both to me, but that didn't give him the right to lord over me. Wintergreen was right: I did have certain rights. The question was: would Slade let me?

"Can you just…" What would be the point? Should I argue for this? Would it be worth it? "My civilian identity doesn't belong here."

"Then who does, if not Dick Grayson?"

Hearing him say my full name out loud made me flinch. "I don't know."

Robin was a hero. Red X was a thief. Dick Grayson was an acrobat. But who was the apprentice? Where did he belong in the spectrum of things? I really didn't know. I wanted to talk to someone about all of my insecurities, like Alfred. He would know how to handle things. Even talking with my friends…with Starfire…it would hurt to talk about this, but they would help me. They all would.

"Do you want your friends back?" Slade asked. "Do you really want to go back after all this?"

I clenched my jaw tightly and said nothing. There was nothing more I hated than admitting to my captor that I was lonely, and that that loneliness was slowly driving me insane.

"Let me go outside," I said quietly. "I've been inside long enough."

"You'll only be let out under my direct supervision."

Hmm. So what would I have to do to convince him to let me out? I didn't want to play his game for long. The longer I stayed here the more his logic began to make sense. I hated that so much.

"What can I learn from you, Slade?" I asked. "Batman taught me everything I need to know. It's not as if you're going to teach me astro-jitsu or anything."

Slade threw back his head and laughed. Humor, sometimes, is the only way to diffuse the tension in any situation. Instead of making me feel better, though, I felt even smaller. He had the ability to rip apart anything I said, and even if I was making a joke he had to mock me. His dark, sardonic laugh invoked nothing but negative feelings in me. Maybe it was because the last time he laughed I was lying beaten on the floor, unable to defend myself.

"You've been watching too much _Clash of the Planets," _he said. "No, unfortunately I'm not going to teach you astro-jitsu, no matter how appealing it sounds."

The aftershocks of his laugh rumbled in the room. For some reason I felt as though I shouldn't have made the reference. What was I thinking? That was dumb. No one said that to his arch-nemesis, especially one as smart as Slade. He patted me twice on the shoulder as his laughter died down.

"It's good to see that you haven't lost your sense of humor."

_It's hard to laugh in this situation, _I thought savagely.

For some reason I thought it odd that Slade even knew what _Clash of the Planets _was. In a way, it reminded me that he was also a fellow human being. There was a man underneath the mask who ate and breathed and laughed just like the rest of us. I just wasn't allowed to know him. Not while it posed a danger to his criminal standing.

"Like you care."

"Oh, I do. I'm not the cold-hearted monster that you think I am."

"Then why do I have a black eye?"

"Life lessons. Besides, you haven't been trying your hardest. That won't do, especially not when I have so much to teach you."

Some part of me was curious: what could Slade teach me? That had been a sincere question. If what Slade had to offer me was better than the hellhole I was in now, then should I accept his offer? Should I just accept this new life and enjoy the fringe benefits?

"Right now you are _not _a threat. It'll take a few years of training for you to become a threat."

"Insulting me isn't helping."

"True. However, you were a threat in Gotham because of your connection to Batman. If a crook saw you around, then he could correctly assume that Batman was nearby. Here in Jump you were a threat because of your team. But by yourself…I mean…come on: you may have had the best marital arts training money can buy, but you're not a threat. Not in the least.

"You asked what I can teach you. I can teach you how to become a threat, Dick. People only think you're a threat because of Batman. I'll teach people to fear you, and not fear by association."

How…was that really true? I tried to think back to those early crime-fighting days in Gotham. People never did fear me, did they? And here people respected me, but they would have never respected me if I didn't work with Batman. People always connected me with Batman. From the very moment I stepped into this city people automatically asked, "but aren't you supposed to be with…?"

I was always at the end of "Batman and Robin." So long as I wore the Robin costume, people would forever associate me with him. My thoughts, whirled and jumbled, prevented me paying attention to the rest of Slade's lecture.

"You'll learn how to steal…how to hack…and how to kill."

"How to kill?"

My stomach flipped at the thought. Bruce never taught me how to kill. He never would. And me…would I…could I do it? Taking another life is difference from stealing. Possessions can be replaced or rebuilt. But a life…a life couldn't be replicated. I can't pull a Catwoman and hand someone their life back. Finally raising my head, I looked at him straight in the face.

"Yes. You wanted to know who I am: I'm a mercenary. I'm going to teach you how to kill."

A mercenary? But if Slade was an assassin, then why was he playing the part of the big bad villain? It didn't make sense. Then again, it could be a part-time job. Slade seemed to be a much deeper guy than a hired hit man. He had a much bigger agenda, I was sure of that.

"No. I won't learn how to kill."

"We'll see what will happen in a few months," Slade said. "You'll change your mind. I guarantee it."

I tried to stand up, but he pushed me back down onto the chair. What could possibly make me change my mind? Coercion wouldn't do him any good. If he really wanted to brainwash me then why didn't he just torture me until I agreed with him? Why did he force me to talk to him so much?

"You're going to accompany me on a contract."

I was too tired to argue. Was Slade going to lecture me like this from now on? When I'm too tired to backtalk? I thought about arguing, but I simply allowed my shoulders to slump. Winning this argument wouldn't do me any good. My face throbbed angrily in pain. It wouldn't be so bad to let him win the argument if I agreed with him. At least then I would be temporarily free to ice down my face to reduce the swelling. Besides, I could always fight back later.

"Yes, sir."

Was he surprised that I agreed with him? I didn't know. That stupid mask prevented me from reading most of his emotions. Not that he was an overly emotional guy to begin with…

"You're excused. Now get out."

It took most of my self-control not to run out of the room. I walked out calmly, deliberately avoiding him as I headed back to my room. Once I was out of his sight, however, I did break into a run. The pain in my side didn't seem so bad anymore. Learning how to kill…

_I can't do it, _I thought, _but no…I can do it. I just won't do it. _

Anyone could pull a trigger, but learning how to kill with your bare hands was a different kind of skill. One that involves brains. I learned how to determine causes of death with the world's greatest detective. Would I be forced to learn how to enact those causes under the guidance of the world's greatest mercenary?

_God, I hope not, _I thought. _Please…no…_

I leaned against the wall of my bedroom and allowed myself to slide to the floor. Right now, I was done with arguing. I was done with fighting. These past two weeks caught up with me. My friends seemed so far away from me. I couldn't talk to them. I couldn't talk to anyone except Slade or Wintergreen. But here…now…I didn't mind so much. Right now, I just wanted to nurse my injuries and mentally prepare myself for Slade's next lecture. Keeping my sanity was my immediate goal, and if I had to momentarily forget my friends to do it, then I would.

It wasn't, however, going to be a permanent thing.

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><p><strong>AN: **If you don't understand the astro-jitsu joke watch _"Don't Touch That Dial" _again. It's the first episode of season 4.

Review!


	11. Down the Rabbit Hole

**A/N: **Ugh, terribly sorry about the delay. I've been having laptop woes.

Thank you all for being patient with me. I'm sorry that I can't update on a regular basis anymore, but like I said this is truly the semester from hell. I'm constantly tired due to a combination of homework, work and a PE class where I literally come out of with bruises (Although my fencing class is a great way to get rid of excess stress! It's the only class where I get a good grade for stabbing people FTW.).

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><p>Chapter 10: Down the Rabbit Hole<p>

Dick quietly did whatever was asked of him, but I knew that he wasn't putting forth his best effort. Even after that lecture he still didn't put in much effort to whatever he was doing.

Dick was becoming wary of our conversations now. He tried to avoid talking as much as possible, but eventually he gave in and talked to either me or Wintergreen. More often it was Wintergreen. That was acceptable for now.

To be honest, I really couldn't force Dick to do anything without physically threatening to harm him. However, I noticed that he was getting into a routine. He did some things without being asked to. If he had an escape plan, then I couldn't tell. Hopefully he wasn't trying to escape. That would be annoying. Of course, anything he did was annoying if it was contrary to my agenda. Dick was adjusting in his own way. He understood who was in charge now. It had taken over two weeks to pound that into his head, but he eventually got it.

It was early evening. I left the Haunt earlier to take care of some outside business. In order to teach Dick how to kill I was going to bring him along on a contract. I spent most of my afternoon securing a contract. It wasn't anything spectacular. He wasn't going to do anything, but he was going to watch. I didn't care if he didn't want to learn. He didn't really have a choice in the matter.

When I came back Wintergreen had the news on as he cleaned my office. The volume was turned down low to a murmur. I didn't think much of it until I heard the name of a certain hero.

"Wait a moment..." I grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.

"...it's unclear whether sightings of Gotham's Dark Knight have been confirmed," the reporter said. "The Teen Titans are unavailable for comment."

"Well," Wintergreen said, "I expected him to come sooner."

"You are not helping."

Part of this puzzled me. Why would the Titans call in Batman? They know that Robin would not want them to call Batman. How would the boy feel if he knew that Batman was in town? Anger? Fear? I'm sure he wouldn't feel happy. Not after their falling-out. One thing was certain, though: I wasn't going to let him know that Batman was here.

Batman's presence presented a problem: he had the skills necessary to find us. I didn't want him bursting in here looking for a fight. I needed to bring the fight to him. Dick was nowhere near ready to beat Batman. Then again, did they necessarily need to fight each other for me to succeed?

"Ask him to come in," I told Wintergreen. "I'd like to speak with him."

It was barely eight. He would still be up. I sat at my desk and worked while I waited for Wintergreen to bring him out. I quickly planned out the lecture I was going to give him. Since these lectures did leave him feeling like crap I tried not to lecture him too much. Batman in Jump City, however, changed things.

_What the hell is he doing here? _I thought.

I thought about the possibility before, but it then it was just a possibility. Now it was reality. I needed to figure what to do now that Batman was getting involved.

Dick walked in. For some reason I could tell that these past few weeks had taken their toll on him. He held himself differently. It wasn't quite like the air of a hero, but that of an aggressor. He was prepared to fight. Yet at the same time I sensed his fear. He had no idea what was going to happen. That unpredicatability would always be my advantage.

"Good evening, Dick."

"Hmp."

"Try again."

"Good evening, sir," he said stiffly, forcing the words out.

"Better. Now take a seat."

He did as he was told without grumbling or manhandling the chair. The expression on his face clearly said, "What the hell do you want?" However, he just sat there and waited for me to say something.

"So, what have you been doing all evening?" I asked pleasantly.

"Staring at my wall."

"How productive."

I was trying to joke with him, but he didn't want to joke around. He was taking this way too seriously. Honestly, if he just lightened up a little everything would be fine. Maybe he didn't believe that I was the kind of person to joke. Well, this whole apprenticeship wasn't supposed to be taken lightly, but perhaps for now I should be a little less informal. That would put his guard down. Dick shifted in his chair and stared sullenly into space. He knew that I asked him to come here for another reason. He didn't want to deal with idle chitchat. I continued to work on my files as I spoke to him.

"Why don't you take off your mask?"

"Because I'm not required to." He looked at me warily. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, right now I don't want to talk to Robin. I want to talk to Dick."

He knew that I was going to ask him to take the mask off sooner or later. I hope it didn't as a surprise. His expression stayed neutral. After a moment Dick took the mask off of his face. He didn't make a fuss about it. I said nothing more about it. I didn't want this to be a big issue. Without the mask he looked even more vulnerable. He tried to avoid my gaze as he shifted in his chair.

"I do have a…somewhat personal question to ask, Dick."

He glared at me coldly, not even bothering to hide the dislike on his face. He knew that I was going to ask the question anyway. He knew that he didn't have a say in anything I made him do anymore. He shut his eyes tightly, as though willing himself to stay calm.

"That alien girl…Starfire, is it?"

"…yeah…?"

"I've read your files. I've read hers. Your team formed because of that girl, right?"

"So?"

"Do you like her?"

He didn't speak. His mouth opened slightly, as though he was surprised that I asked the question. True, I asked the question rather bluntly...

He moved fast, much faster than I anticipated. Dick knocked his chair down as he lunged towards me. I couldn't help but notice that he used some of the moves I taught him. Or, at least, he tried to. He punched me in the gut and tried to kick me in the balls. He missed, but he kept fighting. He jabbed his palm underneath my chin. My head snapped backwards. I lost my breath as Dick hit my neck again. He continued to relentlessly attack me until my back was against the wall. He grabbed my neck with both of his hands.

"Don't," he growled, "you dare touch her."

It was amazing what he could accomplish when he put his mind to it. I had no idea that goading about the girl would get him this aggressive. I couldn't help but chuckle.

"This isn't funny, Slade! If you touch her I'll put you in a body cast for the next six months."

"You won't. You don't have the physical capacity to do that."

I quickly disengaged myself, picked him up and threw him to the floor. "Don't do that ever again. You're becoming predictable and tiresome."

He didn't move. For a moment I was afraid that I knocked him out. Dick just laid there, trying to gather his breath. I also tried to catch my breath. He nearly caught me off-guard. I didn't realize that taunting him would produce such a violent reaction. But, considering the fact that Starfire knew that Dick was Red X, I needed to break that friendship down completely before they faced each other again.

"You can threaten me all you want," Dick said, "but if you touch her...if you threaten her..."

"So I'm assuming that the answer is yes?"

Dick's face darkened. "Don't jump to conclusions."

Again, I chuckled.

"You know, Dick," I said, "your Batman imitation is pretty weak. You wear your heart on your sleeve."

I grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet. "I don't need to be the world's greatest detective to figure this one out."

A thousand different thoughts were probably going through my apprentice's mind. His initial anger subsided. I hoped he realized that most of this was his fault. His reactions betrayed the truth of what I said.

"Don't hurt her," he repeated, although his tone was much more subdued.

Threatening others always tempered his anger. He truly was afraid of losing his friends. Although his tone was defiant I detected a hint of uneasiness. I thought about my original plan to blackmail him. It would have worked, but for how long? This sudden attack demonstrated that he could act aggressively when he needed to. If I got rid of the threat or if he found a way around it I could very well fail.

"I can't promise that I won't hurt her. After all, she is trying to put me in jail. Sit down." He picked up the chair and sat down again. I walked over to the television monitors and began to play footage of the young Tamaranean. "Have you been smitten ever since she kissed you?"

Flush crept up his neck and turned his ears red. He didn't say anything. I didn't need him to say anything.

"Tamaraneans have the ability to pick up new languages via lip contact," I said. "Did you know that, Dick?"

He shook his head slowly, still not daring to speak. He really didn't know, did he? How funny.

"I suppose it's easy to be persuaded by a kiss…no matter how fake it is."

Even though I didn't ask I could still see why he liked her. I was his age once, I knew the reasons why. Obviously there were hundreds of other reasons I didn't know. I didn't care enough to want to know. The alien girl would grow up to be a proud and beautiful woman. It's odd, sometimes, when one notices that in a younger person. Yet the alien was full of flaws as well. She would not do as a lover for the apprentice of a criminal mastermind. He needed to dump her.

"Men like us, Dick, are attracted to very powerful women."

Hah. Powerful women indeed. Adeline was my commanding officer, after all.

"W—what?"

He looked so confused.

"Listen to me: we're not attracted to ordinary women. We have standards. High standards."

We were so very much alike, and alike in ways that neither of us realized yet. I never thought about our separate love lives before. I didn't think that it would be necessary to talk about the boy's obvious crush on the alien girl. But now...it was necessary.

"You...women..."

He wasn't being coherent. Dick crinkled his brow, as though trying to see through my mask. Instead of answering the obvious question I directed the conversation back to him. I couldn't allow him time to defend himself. I had to keep throwing questions and comments at him until he became flustered.

"She's powerful. Much more powerful than you. Is that why you like her?"

"I…what…?"

"How can you trust her? Trust someone who almost started an intergalactic war? Love a girl who pushes you down after giving you a kiss?"

"…She cares for me…"

"Does she?" I demanded. "Or are you so blinded by your own hormones that you can't even tell that she doesn't like you?"

This was cruel in its own right. I obviously caught him off guard. He couldn't summon the words to defend himself. Was I mocking him? In my own way, yes. Mocking the boy for his affections was certainly going to incite a negative reaction. Already I could tell that he was going to hate me for this.

Attacking Batman would only get me so far. I had to dig deeper into his psyche and discover what was truly going on in his head. Even though I could see his face, it's still baffling trying to figure out what was happening in a person's mind. Because really, all we see is a mask: the face we put on to the world may betray nothing internal.

A child's face betrays the most. And even though Dick had experience hiding his face and identity from the world he made the mistake of entwining his civilian identity and his superhero identity into one. He should have separated the two. He should have told his friends his secret identity. If he did that then he would have cemented his friendships even more strongly.

And, though it may not be my place to comment, he was too weak to declare his love for her before now.

"What…what do you know about her?" he asked weakly. "I..."

What was he trying to say? That he loved her?

Love is bitter, kid. Love and life will disappoint. It was an odd question. I didn't expect him to be so blunt. We were heading into dangerous territory. Adeline was something I only talked to Wintergreen about. However, I had already revealed too much about myself. My bitter words about powerful women said enough. Dick could deduce that I used to have a lover who betrayed me. That was all he needed to know.

"Women will stab you in the back," I replied quietly. "Those powerful…beautiful women will rip your heart out. Don't trust them. You never can. It's best that you learn that now."

If he was going to fight the Titans then I didn't want him distracted by women, especially the alien girl. This strategy—attacking his crush—was unorthodox and puerile to be sure, but it was effective. Instead of letting him leave the conversation I continued to attack him.

"You're rather fond of redheads, aren't you?"

Perhaps he was so paralyzed by the amount of information I knew that he couldn't speak. I wondered what would be worse: mocking his current crush on the alien girl or talking about another?

"Batgirl…she's a redhead, isn't she?" I asked. "You liked her too, didn't you?"

He just stared at me, his expression both sad and horrified. How cute. He could claim that he acted like an adult, but he was still immature in a lot of ways. He was a lot more emotional than he wanted to admit. I knew that just by watching the news reels from when he worked with Batman. He suppressed so much of his natural personality. That was unhealthy.

This Batgirl, though...of course she wouldn't like him. He was just a kid. He knew that. Maybe that's why he was reacting so badly to this taunt.

"She dismissed you, didn't she? Laughed at you, perhaps?" I shrugged. "Called it puppy love?"

Adeline was also a few years older than I was. But she saw something in me, something in that young naive soldier that impressed her. I don't know what. Those few years of marriage between us felt real to me. I could only hope that they felt real to her. We didn't need to prove anything to each other. Our love was mutual. Dick's crushes were one-sided. I could use that against him.

"Are you constantly seeking someone else's approval?" I asked. "You're always conforming to someone else's standards. What kind of a relationship is that?"

He felt that he wasn't good enough for anyone. Dick was always trying to better himself. A worth objective, to be sure, but he couldn't better himself for the sake of other people. He couldn't keep saving people for no reason. He couldn't keep believing that he wasn't good enough for the women he loved. I knew that I was breaking him down. I knew that I wasn't helping. But you can't become better unless you face the facts.

Dick bowed his head and studied the floor. "Are you going to keep doing this to me? Tell me why each of my friends don't trust me anymore?"

"Until you understand that they don't trust you, Dick."

Despite the bravado, he really was an affectionate human being. He loved people. And his friends would come to his aid. I knew that. I just didn't want him to believe that they would. Once they lost all faith in him then they would truly abandon him, and he would abandon them. I had to manipulate both sides.

"I want you to sit there and think your life over, Dick, " I said quietly. "Wayne won't give you the affection you want. Your friends will abandon you. And your crush will fade out and die within the next few months."

I've been hinting these things for over two weeks, but it finally seemed to hit him now. If he couldn't find an adequate enough reason to defend his beliefs and his friends, then he would be gone. Convincing him to distrust Wayne was the easiest part. Getting him to distrust his friends would be a much greater challenge. There was already a wide gap between Dick and Wayne. Attacking his weakest point...his affection for the alien...was the next step.

"I'll be back in an hour. Do not move, apprentice. Do not speak. Just sit there and think."

If I offended him with my instructions, then he didn't show it. I gathered my files and left the room. Wintergreen, who was standing just outside of the room, closed the door behind me. Together we walked back towards the main room.

"You lied to him," Wintergreen whispered.

"About what?"

"About you. You can't just hint that you have a personal life and then leave it at that."

"I will teach him however I please."

"Slade, you have to stop lecturing him."

"Why?"

"Why? Because you're driving him crazy. If you keep this up he's going to be angry not only at his mentor, but also at you. He'll be angry that you told him the truth about Batman." Wintergreen's voice hardened. "And you know what's it's like to be a father, Slade. You know how to love your children."

There he went again: mentioning my kids. I stopped walking to look at him.

"Where are you going with this?"

"You told him that Wayne will never give him the parental affection he wants. He lost his parents at a very young age. Don't work him to death. Give him a reason to believe that he can trust you."

"Why are you saying this now?"

"Because right now he needs someone to look up to." He shook his head. "You just destroyed him, Slade. I hope you understand that."

Wintergreen walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

As I walked into the security room I swore I heard Dick sniffle on the camera. I paused. Once before I wondered if I could make him cry. Now I knew the answer. He hunched over, his shoulders shuddering as he fought back his tears. He didn't try to leave the room. He just sat there, finally collapsing into a breakdown. I truly didn't know what was going on inside his head. Was he gathering his hate for me? Or was he thinking about all of his mistakes? One thing was certain, though:

It was time to let him out of the Haunt.

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><p><strong>AN: **Yeah…this was fun to write, actually. Coming up with different ways to screw with Robin's head is positively delightful.

Sorry for the conversation chapters. We're now getting out of the Haunt! Yay!

Also, since it's halfway through October I need to make this announcement again: during November I take the month off writing fanfiction. Why? Because I'm participating in National Novel Writing Month. This year however, I'm doing something special, something that can involve you guys. More info on my profile for details.

Review!


	12. Decisions

**Disclaimer: ****I don't own Teen Titans. **

**A/N: ****This is one last chapter before Nano! Enjoy! **

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><p>"In the little world in which children have their existence whosoever brings them up, there is nothing so finely perceived and so finely felt, as injustice."<p>

-Charles Dickens, Great Expectations, pg. 60.

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><p>Chapter 11: Decisions<p>

Perhaps there was truth in Slade's words. A bitter, cold truth that I avoided at all costs. I didn't understand how such a distant, unemotional guy could break my mind down like that when I couldn't even figure myself out. I had every chance to get up and leave the room, but I sat there and cried like a child.

As an orphan, one cannot help but feel like a piece of baggage thrown about from guardian-to-guardian. I wasn't supposed to be here, but where else could I be? I had no familial relations left. The circus people were unable to adopt me. Originally, I wanted to stay with them rather than be fostered by Bruce Wayne. If I had stayed with them like I wanted, then none of this would've happened. I didn't belong here. An orphan just drifts about, and even if he knows where he belongs he doesn't have the means to be there. He's always vulnerable to his elders and betters. At least, that's how I felt as a child.

Even now, as a teenager, I felt as though I still didn't have a say. I cried because I was always going to be pushed around. I cried because I didn't know what to think or believe or do anymore. I wasn't Superman. Punching through walls and leaping buildings in a single bound was only a fantasy. I couldn't fight my way out of here. I wasn't Batman either, though. I wasn't intelligent enough to outsmart Slade. Slade was right about that. He was right about a lot of things.

_Is he really? _I thought. _Or does he speak with such powerful conviction that I can't help but agree? _

My eyes stung with tears over the injustice of this all. At that moment I knew that I wouldn't be able to escape. Hearing Slade mock me so mercilessly just pushed me over the edge. I wasn't prepared for that. Not at all. All at once I felt like a little kid again. I didn't want Slade to see me cry. I was afraid of being emotionally hurt again. I didn't want him to know that he got to me.

I couldn't hear the gears from the main room here. It was eerily silent in this room. His computer hummed. In normal circumstances I would have tried to hack into his computer, but I was too depressed to care. The hot tears flooding my eyes blurred my vision.

"Richard..."

Wintergreen. I didn't even hear him come in. I wiped my face with the back of my hand. "Go away."

My tears were silently running down my face. I wasn't trying to stop them now. If I was going to cry, then I wanted to cry while Slade and Wintergreen were away. They could at least let me have the privacy to cry on my own time. To my surprise he handed me a box of tissues. Wintergreen didn't say anything as he took a seat next to me.

There is something about silence that is comforting at times. Am I contradicting myself? Not at all. The weight of silence varies. It is a malleable thing. Facing silence alone, with time dragging you along by the scruff of your neck, makes it nearly unbearable. But when you face such loud silence with someone it becomes bearable.

It was awkward, yes, but Wintergreen was showing compassion when Slade deliberately did not. Wintergreen took the time to just sit there in silence. For some reason, him being there calmed me down. I didn't feel so alone. And to be honest, I didn't want him to say anything.

The tears stopped, but I was still in the process of calming myself down. I said nothing. Why should I say anything? Slade made it clear that anything I said could be used against me. Even if I did occasionally talk to Wintergreen I knew that he would repeat our conversation back to Slade.

Wintergreen stood up and sighed.

"Come with me. I want to show you something."

"What?"

My mind didn't seem to be working properly. Wintergreen never tried to talk to me. He would listen when I talked to him and occasionally offer his opinion, but never anything more than that. Wintergreen was too loyal to Slade to be of much help to me. I raised my head to look at him.

"Just trust me."

"But Slade told me not to leave..."

I didn't want to make Slade angry. The lecture he just gave me wasn't full of anger, but...what did I feel? Slade said those things to make me feel like crap. I felt trapped, even when Slade wasn't there. I felt trapped everywhere around here. Every atom in my body told me not to move. It would be safer if I followed Slade's instructions. That was what my instincts told me to do.

"Let me worry about that." Wintergreen gestured for me to stand up. "It's all right. I'm not going to hurt you."

I didn't know what to do. Slade told me to do whatever Wintergreen told me to do...but Slade told me not to leave. I was confused. When I didn't move Wintergreen stepped forward and put his hands on my shoulders.

"You'll be fine, Richard."

Part of me didn't believe him, but I accepted his comforting words. My feelings were so hurt that I wanted someone—anyone—to tell me that things would turn out OK. Wintergreen let his hands fall to his side. Without another word he turned and left the room. For a few seconds I sat stubbornly in my chair. I was really confused.

_Oh what the hell. _

I stood up and followed him, my shoulders hunched and my eyes cast to the floor. Once Wintergreen heard me following he paused to allow me to catch up. Together we walked in silence to an unfamiliar part of the Haunt. He unlocked a door and stepped back to let me through. Immediately I noticed that this room felt different from the other rooms in the Haunt. The Haunt had a strict military feel. Slade didn't mess with much decoration or anything unnecessary. So it was strange, really, to see this room, which was lined with bookshelves.

"Where...where are we?"

"My office."

I looked around, as though expecting Slade to burst in any second. I half-expected a trap. If Slade's "training" has taught me anything, it taught me how to be paranoid. My weight shifted from foot-to-foot as I stood there. I couldn't keep still. Why did Wintergreen want to bring me here? The butler gestured towards the bookshelves.

"I'm afraid that there may not be anything here you may like to read," Wintergreen said, "but perhaps you may something suitable to read."

Was he offering me...something to read? My mind didn't quite comprehend. I stared at him in disbelief for a long while.

"What...is this?"

"You become destructive when you don't have anything to do," Wintergreen said. "I just thought that this might lift your spirits."

What did I have left to lose? I ran my fingers over the spines of the books. Back at the Tower I didn't have time to read. I was always working. I didn't really have time to do anything fun, now that I thought about it.

In a way, being forcibly separated from my friends forced me to step back and examine my life. There were so many things I didn't have the time to do. Was that Bruce's doing? Was that my doing?

There weren't many books there that I was interested in, but the kind gesture was more than enough. A sudden rush of gratitude overwhelmed me. Slade didn't treat me like a human being with emotional needs and wants. Wintergreen was prepared to face Slade's wrath for deliberately disobeying Slade's orders. That was more than anyone had done for me in a long time.

"Thank you, Wintergreen."

His face softened. I don't think I ever said thank you to the butler since I arrived. Slade was right: I wasn't acting like a hero. I was rude to Wintergreen. Maybe Wintergreen was so used to verbal abuse that he didn't think twice of my insults. I don't think he was surprised to hear those words, but perhaps he didn't expect me to care enough to say them.

"You're welcome, Richard. I told you that if you ever need anything you only need to ask."

Part of me was mad that Wintergreen wasn't Alfred, but then again what else could I expect? Wintergreen wasn't the kind of guy who comforted people, but he also wasn't Slade. Wintergreen showed his compassion in other ways. However, I don't think he would ever offer me anything more than a few comforting words and gestures. Unlike Alfred, he would probably not try to get to know me well. And why would he? The only thing we had in common was that both of us worked for Slade. That was the extent of our relationship. Wintergreen had no reason to help me or to pity me, but he did so anyway.

I picked up a copy of _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. _There were no "fun" books per say here, but there were enough to keep me occupied. Part of me wondered if I ever did finish reading _Huckleberry Finn _for school. I couldn't remember.

"It's still early," Wintergreen said, "you can stay here for an hour or two if you want."

"I guess...well...I don't know...Slade said..."

Nothing he said could ease the tension I felt. Indeed, the flesh between my shoulder blades felt tightly knotted. I was so tired. Not just from the fighting, but mentally tired from talking to Slade. How could I ever relax? As though he sensed my anxiety, Wintergreen shrugged.

"It's fine. It is only a suggestion."

Another wave of depression washed over me. Wintergreen was the only person around here who treated me with any sense of decency, but that didn't mean that I belonged here. No matter how nice anyone here treated me, I would always feel threatened. I would never be allowed to leave. I'd never feel at home here.

As the minutes passed Wintergreen ignored me. He sat down at his desk and began to read a newspaper.

"Wintergreen?"

"What?"

When he saw me glance at the newspaper he put it away before I could read the headline. Was I not allowed to read the news? Wintergreen's actions seemed to suggest that my information about the outside world was being severely controlled. I pushed that unpleasant thought to the back of my mind.

"Do you think that I'm the right choice? That I can be Slade's apprentice?"

He gazed at me curiously. Was he ever asked his opinion about these things? Did Slade ever consult him for guidance, just as Bruce talked to Alfred? Something told me that Wintergreen didn't raise him like Alfred raised Bruce.

"I think that is up to you to decide," Wintergreen replied. "He certainly chose someone who has the capability to become great."

He was being honest. I didn't take Wintergreen to be the guy who would lie to my face. Either he honestly believed what Slade said or he actually cared. Really, I wanted to see the good in him. If it was possible, I wanted to see some scrap of good in Slade too. Was I being too hopeful? Was my situation so bleak that I wanted to see hope? Maybe.

"He's right, you know," I said. "About everything."

"Then why don't you tell him yourself?"

"Because right now I just want to punch something in the face." I looked up at him. "Not you, though."

"I'm glad to hear it," Wintergreen replied, "but if you're so frustrated I suggest that you go to the gym. I'm sure the punching bag deserves your wrath."

"Wait...I'm allowed to go to the gym?"

"You always have been."

I didn't know this. If this was Slade talking he would have added a sardonic comment, but not Wintergreen. When I was first trapped here I tried to punch Wintergreen. Although it was clear that Wintergreen could hold his own he didn't deserve to be punched. I rubbed my eyes, still crusty from my tears, and fought back a desire to yawn.

Half an hour ago I almost felt suicidal, but now I didn't care. I still felt like crap, to be sure, but I felt as though I needed to distance myself away from my feelings for Starfire. It was hard to do that, but I didn't want Slade to mock me again.

Although similar thoughts have been swirling in my mind before, I wondered again if I could benefit from this apprenticeship? Was there something here I could live for? Could I really better myself this way? Educate myself? Without the Titans to distract me I'd have time to focus on myself.

_What if I continued playing the part of Red X? _I thought. _Why didn't I continue to play the part when Slade discovered who I was? I should have stayed a theif if I knew that he wanted an apprentice. _

The bitterness building up inside me solidified my decision. I wasn't going to go anywhere as Robin. Not even as Dick Grayson. I could sit and cry all I wanted, but that wasn't going to help me in the slightest. I had to get off of my butt and fight back.

Did I have the nerve to talk to Slade again tonight? No, I didn't. Despite the fact that I was too emotionally and mentally unable to speak to him I made a decision, a decision that wouldn't get my head knocked off. It might have been a stupid decision, but again, what did I have left to lose?

_I can do this, _I thought. _I can beat him. And if it means being his apprentice, then that's what I will do. _

"I should probably go to bed," I said. "I'm tired."

Wintergreen shrugged. I left the room with the book tucked underneath my arm. Slade wouldn't lecture me for taking that, would he? No, he wouldn't. I was just being paranoid again. I walked down the long, winding corridor that led back to my room. After a few weeks I finally succeeded in memorizing the layout of this place.

My victories, though small, would eventually add up. My initial goal to discover Slade's plan was, I guess, a success. I learned that he was looking for an apprentice, a successor to help him enact his future plans. Instead of trying to escape to contact the Titans I needed to learn from him. Only then, when I learned his back-story and weaknesses, would I be able to bring him to justice.

I couldn't stand being mocked any more. If I was going to be stuck here then I wanted Slade to treat me with some respect. Accepting his "help" would be a step forward. Maybe this crazy plan of mine would push me deeper into the dark side, but I had no other choice. I was in too deep enough as it was.

In time I would escape. Slade would teach me the skills necessary to defeat him. For the time being, I was going to accept my role as Slade's apprentice.

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><p><strong>AN: **So, this is the last post of October. I will be posting my NaNoWriMo novel as I write it on fictionpress (same username), so feel free to comment. Also feel free to add me as a writing buddy on the NaNo website! (once the freaking buddiess button starts working!)

Originally this chapter was going to be an interlude, but then I realized that I'd like to end this month on a cliffie. And I also wanted to write more Wintergreen! I feel as though he's such an underused character!

Happy writing, fellow Nanos. See ya in December.

-H


	13. Interlude 2: Deductions

**Disclaimer: ****I don't own Teen Titans. **

**A/N**: Thanks for waiting again, guys. Many strange and wonderful things happened during the month of November. I hit the word count for Nano, but I haven't posted the rest of my novel yet on fictionpress lol. I now have another time constraint (although I'm very excited about it) but as long as I get this fic done before next fall then you don't have to worry. :P

**t-rex: **if you're looking for more stories to read with a similar plot to this one then check out my favorites list.

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><p>Interlude 2<p>

Batman in town? The science of deduction.

Theories. This isn't happening.

Who is Slade?

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><p>-Rae-<p>

I gazed outside of the window towards the city. I needed to get away from everyone else. There was too much bickering going on for my taste. _I wish Robin were here,_ I thought. He knew me the best. We were similar. Dealing with Batman did not help.

It was Cyborg's idea to call the Dark Knight. I still don't know if that was the right thing to do. I didn't like calling for help if we didn't need it. We needed to prove ourselves a team, and calling for help wasn't doing us any good. Well, at least for most of us. Beast Boy seemed torn between being excited to meet Batman and keeping the integrity of team. He danced nervously around Batman, trying to contain his excitement.

"Thanks for coming," Beast Boy said in a squeaky voice, "I mean, if we didn't bother you..."

Batman turned his head. So far in the course of his three-day stay he hadn't revealed his identity to us. He didn't bother trying to get to know us. I suppose that was all we could expect out of Batman. There was a reason why Robin never talked about his mentor. Perhaps, deep down, Robin thought that Batman would never accept us. That Batman would refuse to accept us as equals ever after meeting us.

"No," Batman said quietly, "you didn't bother me."

Robin would kill us if he knew that we asked Batman for help. I could tell that he didn't like having the adults come in and fix everything. But his safety was more important. We needed our leader back.

When Batman arrived he didn't take the time to introduce himself. He needed no introduction. As Batman moved about his secret business I began to understand where Robin got his moodiness from. Batman touched the surface of Robin's desk and looked all around the room.

"I suspect that Robin left the Tower alone," Batman said, "that much we know judging from the state of his room. He was either coerced into leaving or he had another reason to leave."

"How do you know that?" Cyborg asked.

Batman gestured to the room. "You say that your security system showed no signs of a break-in? No signs of being tampered with by an outside party? Then he must have left on his own."

I could tell from the curtness of his voice that there was more he wanted to say. Well, he was the world's greatest detective. It was possible that he felt annoyed that we couldn't keep up with him, that he didn't have his protegee with him to help solve this mystery.

"He's been missing for two weeks now?" Batman asked.

"Yes," Cyborg replied. "I don't even know if he's trying to avoid us or what...I just wish he would send us a message..."

"He could be avoiding me," Batman said, "if he is trying to avoid me...which may be possible..."

"Avoid you?" Beast Boy asked. "Why?"

Batman didn't answer. He wasn't much of a talker. In a way, he was worse than me. Did he intend to work by himself to find Robin, or was he going to actually help us? I didn't know. I could have gone inside his mind, but I didn't think that would be a wise idea. Somehow, no matter how stealthy I was, Batman would know.

"Who are some villains your team has fought recently?"

He directed his question towards Cyborg. Without Robin, Cyborg acted as the team's unofficial leader. Even though it was clear that Batman didn't think we were equal with the Justice League Batman had to acknowledge that Cyborg acted as the leader.

"Well, there was the HIVE...Mumbo...but lately we've been dealing with a guy named Slade..."

"Slade?" Batman repeated.

"Yeah," Cyborg said, "we've been having some trouble with this guy. We don't know who he is or..."

We exchanged uneasy glances. Slade? We didn't know anything about him. Robin's obsession with him was rather frightening. Batman's eyes narrowed at the name.

"The name sounds familiar," Batman said. "I'll look him up in my databases."

Even though I wasn't a detective I could tell that Slade was a professional. He covered his tracks well. If it became obvious to Slade that Robin was tracking him then perhaps Slade decided to take action.

"Is there anyone else you've been dealing with?"

"Right now we're dealing with a petty thief," Cyborg replied, "some kid named Red X."

Beast Boy snorted. "We'd have X in jail by now if Robin hadn't been so _busy _trying to catch Slade..."

"What?" Batman sounded surprised. "Robin hasn't been helping you catch the thief?"

"Nah," Beast Boy said, shrugging, "Captain Research doesn't think X is worth our time. He thinks that Slade is the bigger threat."

Batman tapped his chin thoughtfully. I wondered what was going on in the detective's mind. How was he placing the puzzle pieces together? What sort of conclusion would he come through using the science of deduction?

"Starfire," I said, turning to the Tamaranean, "do you have anything to add?"

The usually talkative alien shook her head. Even though I sometimes didn't like Starfire's enthusiasm I could tell that something was wrong with her. I had accidentally swapped bodies and powers with her. I knew that her powers were fueled by her emotions, which was why she felt enthusiastic most of the time. I would have to ask her about her moodiness later.

"What if he was kidnapped?" I asked.

"By whom and for what purpose?" Batman asked. "If Slade is behind this, then would he kidnap Robin? Would he use force or not? Ask yourselves what his motivation might be. Who benefits?"

We were stumped. That was what Robin was trying to figure out, right? What were Slade's motivations? Was he trying to take over the city?

"Maybe Robin finally figured it out," I said. "Maybe that's why he's missing."

Although we didn't know what kind of villain Slade was I could only assume that he was a smarter villain. Sure, the HIVE were a force to be reckoned with, but Slade was the one who hired them. Batman looked down at me, as though waiting for me to continue speaking.

"But," I said, not wilting under his glare, "what would motivate Robin to leave the Tower to look for Slade without us? How would Robin benefit?"

How would Robin benefit...what an idiotic statement to make. I wasn't going to allow Batman to make me feel nervous, but somehow he managed to make everyone feel nervous. Batman nodded ever so slightly.

"Now you're asking the right questions. We can't always assume that it is the villain's fault."

Without another word Batman turned and continued to work. Cyborg and the others crowded around him, continuing to bombard him with questions. As Batman and the others argued I slipped away. Normally, I wouldn't run from a group meeting. My friends needed me, but I needed time alone to think. Sometimes they didn't understand what an introvert I am. I needed time alone to re-think. I needed to figure out what I could do to help.

_It's so hard to help when you don't even know what to think, _I thought.

I locked the door behind me. I didn't want anyone to come into my room. No one should _ever _come into my room. After a few, long moments of silence I finally calmed myself down. I sat down cross-legged on the floor of my bedroom. Even though I wasn't sure if this would work I needed to try to search for him.

_"Azarath Metrion Zinthos!" _

My soul-self reached out to the city. Fleeting thoughts of the city's civilians brushed past me, echoing as they laughed and cried and shouted in the vibrancy of daily life. Some shivered as my soul-self fluttered past them like a shadow, semi-aware that something was amiss.

Although I didn't want to admit it, there were hundreds of people suffering in the city. As an empath, I understood that there was so much that the Titans couldn't do for people. No matter how hard we tried, we wouldn't be able to save everyone we wanted to save. It was incredibly selfish of me to look for my friend when so many other people were in danger, but who would save the heroes in their times of need?

_"Robin!" _

Would he even answer to that name now? If he had really been captured by Slade, then did the criminal mastermind already uncover his secret identity? Was Robin traveling incognito, under his civilian identity? I kept calling out his name, hoping that I would be able to locate him. Without a previous mental connection it would be difficult to find him amongst so many people.

_Perhaps he's asleep, _I thought as I kept searching for him. _Or unconscious...or dead..._

What would happen if I found him? As a general rule, I never tried to invade my friends' minds. While I knew that I probably should have consulted Batman and the other Titans, I didn't think it was necessary. Calming myself down, I forced myself to slow down. I had to narrow down my search.

_Little girl..._a deep, bass voice rumbled, _what makes you believe that you can make a difference? _

Trigon. Why...of all times he had to appear...did he do so now? Was it because I was emotionally compromised? Or because I was doubting myself?

_If I can make a difference in one life, _I thought savagely, _then at least I've made someone happy before _the _end. _

Always the end, the end. No matter what I did or thought, everything pointed to the end of the world for me. I knew what I had to live for. Robin was one of the few people who helped me get out of that mindset. He helped me not feel like a freak by offering to join the Titans. I don't think he'll ever understand my gratitude...that is, if I ever had the chance to thank him.

_Why try when he'll die with the others? _Trigon asked. _Everything you do is useless. Once I have opened the portal then everything you've done will be for naught. _

_ Get. Out. _

I forced Trigon out of my mind, but the damage had already been done. I pushed past thousands of minds as my search for Robin intensified. The only reason why I didn't do this before was because there were too many people. Without having established a serious mental connection beforehand it would be near impossible to locate him, but still I searched. The only benefit I had was knowing him beforehand.

_"Robin!"_ I shouted. _"Where are you?" _

A little spark of consciousness awoke as I shouted his name. Was he asleep? I couldn't tell if I woke him or not, or if it was even him. Robin was a boy's name, after all. I could have found the wrong one.

_"Raven!" _

The voice sounded faint, as though heard through a wire and cups. I prodded through the cloudy, sleepy consciousness and tried to establish contact. Strong waves of fear and anxiety flowed past me as Robin awoke with a start.

_"Where are you?" I asked. "Tell me what's going on." _

Robin rolled onto his side. He had been sleeping. He lifted a hand to his head, as though wondering if he were still dreaming. A few seconds later his eyes snapped open, widening in fear as he sat up in his bed. Was he wearing his mask? I couldn't tell. His thoughts were scattered and frightened, a jumble of words and phrases that I couldn't make sense of. Understandable, given that most people weren't used to communicating telepathically.

_"Raven...don't...he'll destroy you..." _

_ "I'm trying to help you," I said, "Please, Robin...tell me what's going on..." _

_"GET OUT!" _

As I opened my eyes I found myself sprawled on the floor of my bedroom. I closed my eyes and grimaced to myself. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me. Maybe I wanted to see Robin even if he wasn't there. Maybe I contacted the wrong person, but something told me that I didn't.

_Did he just kick me out? _I thought. _Who was he talking about? Was he talking about Slade? _

Someone began to knock frantically on the door. Instead of waiting for the others to come up I forced myself to stand up. I didn't want them to come into my room. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

_You can't help him, _Trigon said, _he's already gone._

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><p><strong>AN: **I'm trying to decide whether I just want the Titans to have interlude POVS, or if I want to have "guest" appearances.

Oh, and concerning next fall: UK readers, I am coming for you. Hence all of the Sherlock references in this chapter. :)


	14. Not a Villain

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anyone.

**A/N: **Yes, I have heard about the petition for a sixth season of Teen Titans! I do hope that a new season will be written.

Again, apologies for the slowness of these updates. I'm drowning in work aka finals. Next semester is going to be even crazier. However, I'm still working on this!

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><p>"Children aren't coloring books. You don't get to fill them with your favorite colors."<p>

—

**Khaled Hosseini, **_**The Kite Runner**_

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><p>Chapter 12: Not a Villain<p>

**-SW- **

Although I hated wasting time I couldn't very well teach him after that demoralizing lecture. That was my fault. I wouldn't admit it out loud, but that had been my fault. Besides, I had work to do. My attention had to be focused elsewhere which, for a few days, meant that I needed to be out-of-town. It would be useless to burden you with the details of the trip. Dealing with infuriating, inferior and incompetent men tires me just by thinking about it.

I trusted Will to look after the boy. Sometimes I got the sense that Wintergreen didn't like playing the part of the "baby-sitter," but it was better than having the kid watched by Sladebots. Right now I trusted Will more than anyone else. After losing Addie's trust I couldn't afford to lose Will's trust.

"Welcome back, Sir," Wintergreen said as I stepped into the room. "I trust everything is in order?"

"As well as it can be."

Contracts should have become easier to secure once I left Addie and the kids, but my life took a downward spiral once I divorced. My reputation proceeded me wherever I went. Several of my clients liked to poke fun at the fact that my _wife _shot my eye out. Several broken fingers later they apologized. Profusely. They didn't understand that I showed some self-control.

Addie would have broken their necks.

"That's good," Wintergreen said, setting a tray on the coffee table. "I was about to pour myself some tea. Would you like some?"

"Sure."

I slumped into a chair and turned on the news. The only thing I was worried about was Batman discovering my hideout, but I managed to distract him for the time being. My contacts outside of Jump City were ordered to pull some heists to distract both Batman and the Titans. As far as I could tell that plan was working.

"How is the boy?" I asked.

"Well, he happened to wander to the gym. He then proceeded to attack the punching bag until he passed out."

For someone who wanted to escape he wasn't doing a good job of saving his energy to do so. Hmm. It seemed as though his attitude worsened in my absence. While I trusted Will to take care of him I didn't expect him to discipline the boy. That was my job.

"Slade," Wintergreen said as I moved to stand up, "don't lecture him now. As I think you've noticed, he doesn't react too well to _your _lectures."

Wintergreen didn't need to expand upon that; it was self-explanatory.

"I hope you don't mind that I interfered," Wintergreen said, handing me a cup of tea. "Your apprentice felt rather...down."

Well, _that _was an understatement. I sat back down and continued to drink my tea. Will was right: now wasn't the time to be angry at him. After a couple minutes of strained silence I spoke again.

"I don't approve of his new reading material," I said. "Huck Finn? You, really let him take _that?" _

"Are you going to burn literature now?" Wintergreen asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm disappointed in you, Slade. You sound like an angry mother suing a school board."

A low chuckle escaped me. Will was right. He usually was. I guess I was being paranoid. "I suppose I hoped he would pick up a copy of _The Art of War."_

Well, I guess I was exaggerating. Even Grant didn't like to read much. I pushed that thought away. Wintergreen continued to read his newspaper as he spoke back.

"Even I wouldn't read that," Wintergreen said. "I just assumed that giving him something productive to do would help dampen his aggression."

"And has it?"

"Why don't you be the judge of that, Sir?"

Sometimes it was annoying how neutral Wintergreen could be. Instead of avoiding the subject I asked him what was on his mind. Wintergreen took a few seconds to gather his thoughts

"Sooner or later you won't be able to control him," Wintergreen said, "you know that."

"And by that you mean...?"

"Well, he can't be your apprentice forever."

"Of course he won't be."

"He's not a child. You should stop treating him like one."

"I'll stop when he stops acting like one."

"Why don't you just admit it, Slade?" Wintergreen asked. He didn't sound angry, but I detected annoyance in his voice. "This has never been about your job. It's always been about the kids. Always."

At times I felt as though Wintergreen understood me more than Addie ever did. He was much older, much wiser than I. To be honest, I never asked him to assist me. I never asked him to help me take care of the boys when I was too ill from the military experiments to care for them. He just helped me without a word. Even though he did whatever I asked of him he never hesitated to voice his opinion.

"It's not about them," I replied, "so don't try to relate them to him."

"You don't know him," Wintergreen said, lowering his newspaper. "It's like with Joseph. You didn't know either of them. You certainly don't know Grayson."

I didn't want to be mad at my old friend. God knows he's the only person I can have a reasonable conversation with. But how could he be so calm? He cared for my kids too. Hell, he helped Addie and I raise them.

"You can't make him be you."

"Watch me."

The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop myself. I didn't mean to say that. Wintergreen's brow furrowed as he looked steadily at me.

"You truly are a villain."

Let me make something clear: I don't think of myself as the villain. I never have. It's a label that others have placed upon me. However, the way Wintergreen said it pissed me off. I don't know why, but it did.

"I'm doing him a favor," I replied angrily. "I know he's not me or Grant."

"Do you?"

Why did he have to ask these questions? This was getting annoying.

"So you believe that you can take away someone else's child?" Wintergreen asked. "Whether or not he is an orphan, that boy had a family you took him away from."

"Why are we talking about this?" I asked quietly, my tone dangerous. "The boy is of no importance."

"That's not really what you believe. You didn't invest so much time and effort into kidnapping him just to make him work for you. You may take my advice however you please. Remember this, Slade: you don't know him. If you really want him to join you then you will have to make effort to know him as a person." Wintergreen sighed. "You told him that he's not a waste of space. You can't make him be the person _you _want him to be. I believe that was the mistake you made with Grant and Joseph."

"Why do you care so much, Will?" I asked. "I thought you didn't care about the boy."

Wintergreen paused. "Perhaps I don't particularly admire your profession. While I can't predict whether or not you will continue to be a mercenary, I do believe that you have a chance to start again." In that moment he looked ancient...fragile. The result of having seen too much pain and suffering in his life. In that moment I realized that even if he didn't want to become friends with the boy, he empathized with him. He pitied him, just as he used to empathize with me when I was weak. "Perhaps both of you can learn something from each other."

Wintergreen didn't want to argue with me anymore. Even though he was my best friend he disagreed with me about many things. My suspicion that he didn't like the idea of an apprentice was now confirmed.

"What do you think of him?" I asked as he turned to leave. "Do you think he's the right choice?"

I didn't expect him to answer my question. He shot me a curious side-long glance. I hardly ever asked him these kinds of questions.

"He is arrogant," Wintergreen replied, "but I believe that it is more defensive than anything else. He's scared, so he feigns arrogance to protect himself. "

How odd. I've never thought about arrogance in that way before. Instead of shouting at my old friend I sighed.

"Your input is always appreciated."

"Only when it is convenient to you, Sir."

A slight smile twisted my lips as Wintergreen turned and finally left the room. There were times I hated Will's advice. Why? Perhaps it was because his words stung with truth I didn't want to confront. I didn't want him to psychoanalyze me. I got enough of that from Dick, whenever he thought to try.

_I could never think of him as a son, _I thought angrily. _That's not what this is about. _

Instead of talking to Will I left the room. I didn't want to deal with him anymore. It was stupid to argue with my best friend. A quick scan of the security cameras told me that Dick was in the gym, so that's where I went.

I watched him beat the crap out of the punching bag. All of the internal rage boiling inside him needed to be let loose. He was the kind of kid who didn't like to stay inside all day. He didn't like to study all day. Even when he forced himself to study all day his mood didn't improve unless he was out there fighting. Grant had been like that too.

I could have left the room, but instead I coughed quietly to get his attention. "Feeling better?"

He looked at me, surprised. I don't think he expected me to come in. He wiped his sweaty bangs away from his eyes. Without his hair gel his dark hair fell over his eyes. He needed a hair cut. Dick hunched his shoulders as he looked up at me, his hands still scrunched in fists.

"As if you care, Slade." He turned and punched the bag violently again. "At least the bag can't punch me back."

The bitterness in his voice was absolute. I didn't care if he destroyed the bag. He had a right to be bitter. I would be too if I were in his position.

"Are you always afraid that I'm going to hurt you?"

"Why should I expect anything else from you?" He turned and continued to punch the bag. Perhaps he was punching the bag in order to avoid a fight with me. "You've beaten me down, Slade. Is that all you want to do?"

His face twisted in rage. His misplaced aggression would do better elsewhere. At least he wasn't trying to pick a fight today. However, I needed him to listen to me.

"Stop, Dick."

He didn't stop punching the bag. I caught hold of his arm as he brought it back to punch the bag again. He struggled for a moment before his arm relaxed. I let go of him.

"Don't wear yourself out," I said sternly. "It's not good for your health."

Dick said nothing. He stood there passively, perhaps wondering if it was wise to snap back. Something else was bothering him, something that had nothing to do with me. He seemed distant. He sat down on a bench and grabbed a water bottle.

"What's bothering you?"

He didn't answer. As I told him before, silence wasn't an answer. He looked to the side and wrung his hands together. Dick knew that I was expecting an answer, but perhaps he needed a little motivation.

"You can trust me," I said, "far more than you can ever trust Wayne."

"Can I?"

For a moment I just looked at him. Everything that Will told me had permeated my mind. Even if I didn't agree with everything he said, he was right about one thing: I didn't know Dick as a person. I never would if we continued to think of each other in terms of hero and villain. Slowly, hesitantly, I unhooked the metal mask from my face.

Was it anti-climatic? Perhaps.

"Disappointed?" I smirked. "You look it."

He said nothing. He liked to reply with silence these days. It was an annoying habit. I raised my hands. "There. Your mission is accomplished. You know who I am."

"No, I don't."

He speaks! Dick spoke in a calm, steady voice. "A face doesn't mean anything unless I know who you are. I know nothing about you, Slade."

In other circumstances I would have berated him for such an informal tone. As his superior I demanded respect. I deserved it. Wintergreen's words were fresh on my mind, though.

"Trust takes time to build," I said, "did you trust Wayne at first?"

"I...no." He paused. "No."

"But you trust him now."

"I don't trust him so much as I expect him to stalk me."

"Hmm. You seem confused."

"Maybe, but I do know that I don't want to work for you."

"Then what do you want?" I asked. "What does Dick Grayson want to do with his life?"

I wasn't asking Robin the Boy Wonder. I wasn't asking the Robin who led the Teen Titans. I was asking Dick Grayson.

"I want to continue leading the life I led before this."

"You are not Batman. You aren't obliged to fight crime."

I allowed myself an audible sigh. "Perhaps I have been going about this the wrong way."

Dick's eyes widened. Did he just hear that? An admission that I was wrong? Yes, boy, you did. I placed my hands behind my back and continued to speak.

"Think of it this way, Dick: the unnecessary burden of protecting this city will eventually break you. You don't have to protect the city. You're what, fifteen?"

"Sixteen."

"Sixteen. Fine." He didn't like to acknowledge his youth, did he? "Forget about protecting the city. Once I deem that you are ready you will be free to go."

"What?"

He didn't bother to hide the surprise in his voice.

"You heard me. I'll have to let you go. Eventually I will have no other option once your skills are as good as mine."

He looked completely dumbfounded. Why wouldn't he be? He had good reason to believe that my ego would prevent me from admitting my weakness. Dick didn't really believe that I wanted him to eventually take my place. He was too biased to believe that.

"Really?"

"Yes."

His brow furrowed. "When do you think I'll be ready?"

"Well, that depends."

"Depends on what?"

"On how hard you decide to study. The amount of time you dedicate to the apprenticeship is proportional to your time here."

"How long?"

I had to give him a definite answer. "Two years minimum."

To a boy that could mean eternity. To me it was nothing. His face fell.

"I can't go back to my old life after all that," Dick said. "Everyone will know that I worked for you."

"Do they?" I didn't allow him to answer. "You didn't tell your friends you masqueraded as Red X. Why must you go back as Robin?"

No matter what his argument his answer wouldn't be satisfactory. At least not to me.

"You're not giving me a choice," Dick said.

"You had every chance to walk away from the warehouse," I said, "you could have called for help, but you didn't. I think that deep down, you really don't trust your friends."

Now that was the truth. He stared at me steadily, his expression stoic. This time he didn't bother to make up an excuse. He knew that it was true.

"But," I said before he had the chance to speak, "if you do care about them, as you claim you do, then why should you burden them with the knowledge that you are Red X? That would just make them angry. That would hurt them. I'm sure you don't want that. Slipping out of existence is easy. You don't have to put yourself through the agony of confronting them. Everyone will benefit."

For a few long seconds he didn't speak. For once I couldn't read his emotions. I knew that he was seriously considering my words. They made logical sense. Silently, he stood up, his face oddly calm.

"That's the coward's way out."

"Is it?" I raised an eyebrow. "Or are you just disagreeing to piss me off?"

"You're right."

It was my turn to be surprised. He said it so causally that I thought I misheard. Dick shrugged in defeat.

"Oh?"

"Not about everything, of course. Pissing you off seems the be the only thing I can do right around here." He looked at me straight in the face. "I think you're the coward here, Slade."

The temptation to punch him nearly overwhelmed me. Despite whatever crap came his way he still acted stubbornly. Coercion would only work temporarily.

"You should learn when to keep your mouth shut."

"I can't help it: I'm chatty. It's part of my charm."

A hint of a smile crossed Dick's face. Oh boy, was he asking for trouble. Although it was clear that he still felt uneasy from my lecture, he seemed determined not to let me get to him anymore.

"I think you would do well to follow my advice."

"Nah, it's more entertaining not to." As though suddenly aware of what he was saying, Dick lowered his eyes to the floor. "Can I go, now?"

"After you apologize for your rudeness."

There was a time and a place for his backtalk, but it wasn't here and now. My tolerance for his rudeness varied day-by-day. After dealing with those idiots outside of Jump City my tolerance was low today. He struggled to form words. "Sorry, Sir."

Dick turned to leave, but I caught his arm again. "I didn't give you permission to go."

Instead of asking why he just stood there, fighting back the urge to snap at me. I studied his grimacing face. There was something he wasn't telling me. I couldn't accuse him of lying, but he was definitely hiding something from me.

"I'll let you outside if you do everything I assign without complaining," I said. "Now you may go."

I let him go. As he left the room I turned and examined the damage to the punching bag. It hurt him more than he hurt it. When I grabbed his wrist I noticed that his knuckles were wrapped in bloody athletic tape.

In that moment I realized that it didn't matter if Wintergreen was right about me trying to find a son in him. Dick was messed up. He needed help, help that Batman or his friends could never give him. He didn't trust them enough to let them help him. Even if he didn't believe that he could trust me, I knew that he would eventually learn to. And perhaps I too could learn how to trust someone other than Wintergreen. Perhaps there was hope for me yet.

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><p><strong>AN: **After December 16 I will re-open my beta-reading profile. I will be available for beta-reading until January 9, when I return to classes. First three people to PM me will have priority.

Also, I've been writing Christmas-themed oneshots about Slade's family. I'd like to note that that collection of oneshots fits within the continuity I created with "Northern Star." Just sayin.

Review!


	15. Checkmate

**Disclaimer: **I don't own these characters.

**A/N: **

I'm basically done with this horrible semester! Sure, I got one final left, but who cares? I don't. It's a silly final. Anyway, to celebrate I wrote lots of fanfiction.

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><p>Chapter 13: Checkmate<p>

**-DG-**

What the hell?

The following twenty-four hours were rife with confusion. While I knew that Slade would be back sometime yesterday I didn't expect him to show me his face. If it wasn't for the eye patch he would have looked normal. Slade was older than I expected him to be. Of course, I still had no idea who he was. It was silly to think that his true identity should be above or below my expectations.

However, despite my confusion there was one single thing that I realized early on: he would never kill me. Not while he thought that I wasn't a waste of time. Even if I didn't have a say in my life that was the one thing I could use against him. Any advantage was a good advantage.

After a while my temper cooled. I suppose that being able to wander around the Haunt helped me calm down. While I had plenty of opportunities to try to escape I didn't. Right now it seemed stupid to escape. My mind whirled with too much information. Too many theories. Not just about Slade, but also the Titans.

_What happened the other night? _I thought. _Did Raven really try to get inside my head? _

No matter how hard I thought about it I couldn't decide if that had been a dream or not. If Raven was capable of getting inside my head, then it was a power she never cared to mention to me. When I woke up in the middle of the night I felt scared and confused. Did I blow off a rescue attempt? Now I would never know.

I wandered into the kitchen, where I knew I would find Wintergreen making breakfast. My stomach grumbled as the full blast of the kitchen's wonderful smells hit me. Nothing Wintergreen cooked would _ever _be as good as Alfred's cooking. I'm biased. So sue me.

"Where's Slade?" I asked.

That was the same question I asked every morning whenever I knew Slade was away. Slade was still a threat to me. I needed as much information as possible to keep myself on alert.

"Hanging around."

Well, thank you, Wintergreen. You are ever so helpful. I sat down at the table. Lately I've been allowed to eat in here rather than in my room. I liked the change of place, even if it was just a different room in the Haunt.

A chess set was pushed to the other end of the table. Bored, I opened it and began to set up the pieces.

"How long have you known him, Wintergreen?" I asked. "Slade, I mean."

"More years than I care to admit." Wintergreen placed a plate of food in front of me. He sat down across from me. "But long enough."

Breakfast with company, even if that company was Wintergreen, was better than being alone. True, some days I would rather eat in peace, but I needed to talk to someone.

"When did he start getting ideas about training an apprentice?" I asked.

"I think it's always been on his mind."

"You're not going to give me a concrete answer, are you?"

"No. It's Slade's business. His reasons are his own."

We continued to eat. If I had to compare Wintergreen to Alfred again, I would say that they had similar ideas about their masters. Alfred did keep the fact that Bruce was Batman a secret from me, but he did that out of kindness. He honestly thought that keeping the whole thing a secret would be best for me.

Wintergreen, however, deliberately kept information from me so that I might be better manipulated by Slade. He didn't try to hide that fact. I moved a pawn forward.

"What about your reasons, Wintergreen?" I asked. "Your reasons for helping him?"

"They are my own as well." After a moment's consideration he moved one of his pawns. "It's good that you ask questions, but you don't ask the right ones."

That was code for "you need to shut up about certain things." At least Wintergreen was polite about it, though. Slade would just tell me to shut up. As we spoke we continued to play. Neither of us were playing to win. I was bored. Maybe Wintergreen was bored as well. I don't know.

"Then what questions am I allowed to ask about Slade?" I asked. "Like what's his favorite _Clash of the Planets _character?"

I heard the kitchen door open. Unless Slade hired cleaning ladies to sweep the Haunt today then there was only one person it could be.

"Oh, there you are," Slade said. "Giving the punching bag a rest today, are we?"

"Speak of the devil," I said, not even turning to look at him. "How long have you been watching, you creep?"

"Watch your language."

"Only when you stop stalking me."

Wintergreen shook his head as he stood up. He knew that it would be useless to stay. Slade came in here to talk to me. Or maybe to make me train with him. Whatever. I didn't care. I was so bored that I welcomed any kind of distraction.

"Is it your goal in life to piss me off?"

"As of this moment, yeah."

To my surprise Slade wasn't dressed in his normal uniform. He wore dark civilian clothing. Even without his mercenary uniform he still looked intimidating. There was something about him that suggested a military history. I don't know what it was: his mannerisms, his speech...basically his idiosyncrasies.

"There are better things to strive for in life, kid."

He clapped his hand on my shoulder. Rising an eyebrow, I looked up at him with a frown on my face. "Don't touch me."

"You're not in a good mood today, are you?"

"No, I just mind it when you invade my personal space."

"Would you rather I knock you into next Tuesday?"

"Actually, I would. That would be far less patronizing."

"No, this is more patronizing." Slade ruffled my hair. "Get a haircut, you hippie."

Almost immediately I began to mess with my hair, glaring at him as he smirked. "Personal space, Slade. Personal space."

As usual, Slade ignored me. Even though I haven't interacted with him much without his mask he acted differently. I didn't know what to think when he showed me his face. I mean, I didn't expect him to trust me enough.

He sat down in Wintergreen's empty chair. "Shall we continue, or start a new game?"

"What?"

Slade gestured at the board. "Would you rather play the game or go straight to training?"

"Um...well...I'm winning. Why don't we continue?"

What the hell was I doing...playing chess with a super-villain? Perhaps Ra's al-Ghul would deign to play games with us mere mortals, but Slade? Slade was still an enigma. I didn't know him. Judging by his annoyingly superior behavior he wasn't going to let me get too close.

Slade was driving me crazy. Plain and simple. Compared to other crap I've been through with other villains this wasn't too bad. What made it bad was the mental gymnastics. Every conversation crackled with tension; every interaction a battle of wills. Almost like talking with Bruce.

"Very well."

We began to play. I didn't want that awful, loaded silence to fall between us again. Sometimes I felt as though silence was worse than conversation. Although there was the danger of him twisting my words the conversation would benefit both of us. There was still a lot about Slade I didn't understand.

"I still think you're crazy," I said. "What would you say if I called you a psychopath?"

"I would say you're wrong. I'm more of a high-functioning sociopath. Get your facts right, little detective."

He smirked at me. I wanted to punch that smirk right off his smug face. I moved one of my chess pieces, not even caring what I did.

"I don't think you have any right to tell me what's best for my future. You don't know me."

"Of course I don't know you," Slade said, "you could spend years with a person and never know them fully."

I took my eyes off of the chessboard. It was Slade's turn. His attention was focused on the game. Lines creased his forehead as he thought about his next move. What made him say that?

"Your king is in danger."

"What?"

"I'm about to destroy your king. Perhaps you ought to pay better attention."

I wasn't even paying attention to the game. Most of my attention was focused on our conversation.

"It's too late for that now." I toyed with the idea of moving my castle, but then I thought better of it. "You probably destroyed me five moves ago. My king is already a zombie."

"Joking in the face of danger...haven't heard you do that in a while."

"It's a coping mechanism."

I don't know why I was joking with him. Seeing a face made me more inclined to trust him. Joking was instinctive. I didn't joke in front of my friends because I was supposed to be the leader. I was supposed to be the brains of the group. They knew that I can goof off when I want to. It's easier to joke when you're a kid, though. It was also hard to joke in front of Slade. He didn't seem like he

"I thought the shape-shifter was the jokester."

"His jokes aren't that funny."

"So I've noticed. Then again, your puns aren't any better."

I allowed myself to glare at him. However, I didn't attempt to defend my puns. They were pretty bad. Even Bruce made fun of me sometimes.

"But he's still my friend," I said hastily. "They are all still my friends."

"So you say."

What if he started asking about Bruce again? Those questions were the worst. While a part of me wanted to see Bruce and apologize for everything I've said another part of me didn't want anything to do with him. What would I do if Batman showed up in Jump City? What then?

Somehow I managed to take one of Slade's chess pieces. The competitive side of me knew better than to cheer over this small victory. He could be pretending to make stupid moves in order to trick me. That wouldn't be beneath him.

"If I were playing chess with Ra's al-Ghul I'd be playing for humanity's future." I moved my bishop. "There are no consequences here, right?"

"We're only playing chess. You have nothing at stake."

"Nothing except my pride."

Villains like to play mind games. If this were the Joker, we'd be playing with chess pieces made of dynamite. If I were playing against the Riddler, I would be trying to puzzle out why a raven is like a writing desk.

"Perhaps both of us should stop thinking in extremes." Slade moved his piece, successfully killing one of my bishops. "Sometimes all I want in life is a good game of chess and pleasant conversation."

Since when was Slade so...reasonable? Aside from his occasional...temper tantrums...when was he ever unreasonable? I tried to shake myself of that thought. Slade wasn't reasonable. Not when he's keeping me captive.

"Isn't this counterproductive?" I asked. "Wasting time playing games?"

"Chess is an ancient game of logic and skill. It's a mock battle. Are you really going to let me kill all of your pawns?"

He took away another one of my pawns. He picked up the white chess piece and examined it. "How funny. It's easy to get rid of pawns because they're nothing but wood. Insignificant in the scope of things."

"Is everything a game to you, then?"

"No. Of course not." He set the chess piece next to the board. "I don't gamble with human lives as much as you believe."

"Are you saying that you value human life?"

"Only those that matter."

I leaned back in my seat and crossed my arms over my chest. No matter how hard I tried to make myself believe that Slade was insane, it just so happened that he wasn't. True, we had a rough start with the whole kidnapping thing. That would give anyone a bad vibe. But the way he spoke and acted now suggested that he was a reasonable human being.

Of course, there was that one flaw of beating the living crap out of anyone who disagreed with him that made me wary. Would I have trusted him if he started treating me this way first, though? I didn't know. No matter how reasonable he appeared to be I felt as though I would always mistrust him. It's hard to forget beatings.

"Why do you want me to work for you so badly?" I asked. "There are plenty of other kids willing to work for you. Why didn't you just hire one of the HIVE kids?"

"As you already know, even the HIVE's top graduates are incompetent." Slade moved a piece. "But as a hero, would you let another kid work for me? Knowing what you know about me now?"

My hand froze in mid-air. I hesitated before answering."No."

"Oh, come now, Dick, we both know that you would rather have someone else take your place. Being replaced is the easy way out. The coward's way out."

_I'm not going to let him turn my words against me, _I thought angrily. But Slade was right: if I admitted that I wanted someone else to take my place that would make me a coward. However, how could I want a different life without appearing selfish?

"You really believe that you're doing me a favor by training me?"

"Of course. You should be grateful for it."

Repetition wasn't going to make me believe anything. He couldn't make me believe that I was grateful for anything. But if Slade truly believed that training me as his apprentice was a good thing, then how could I convince him otherwise?

"Is that it, then?" I asked. "Do you believe that this one 'good' deed will make up for all of the horrible things you've done?"

"That depends on what you mean by _good." _

Slade moved his queen. "Checkmate."

I looked down at the board. True to his word I had lost. Part of me knew that I would lose, but that didn't mean that I couldn't feel sour about it.

"Are you mad?" Slade asked. "Shall we have a re-match?"

He tossed the king at me. "Or shall I show you what you did wrong?"

Admitting defeat was more than just an act of humility. If I was going to learn from him I would have to be willing to give up everything I've learned before. I couldn't just admit that I was wrong—that Batman was wrong. I caught the chess piece and stood up.

"I'm always looking to improve my game. I should have won."

"Winning isn't everything."

"It's just the only thing that matters."

A smile spread across Slade's face. For a moment I taught he was going to say something patronizing, something stupid that would ruin the moment. But he didn't. Slade stood up.

"Today we're working on strategy. Care for a re-match? With live Sladebots?"

"If I get to destroy them like a Harry Potter chess set, then yes. I'd love to run you into debt by damaging your property."

"Is that your new plan, then? To cripple me with debt?"

"There's nothing much I can do."

"Then get creative." Slade walked out of the room. "Meet me in my office in five minutes. Bring a better escape plan with you."

As he left me alone in the kitchen I shook my head. What the hell just happened? Instead of dwelling on our odd conversation I decided to get moving. Being punctual was a quality Batman instilled in me. I wasn't going to let Bruce down by refusing to exhibit the skills he did teach me. I was going to prove Slade wrong.

-TT-

I won't bore you with what I learned. Recalling an entire day of class is difficult. I don't think anyone can do it on command. However, the details that stood out to me don't include the material I learned from Slade.

Without the mask he was a lot more sociable. I won't say that he was less serious, but that's the only way I can describe it. While I knew that this was the same man who terrorized the city I found it so much easier to talk to him. His emotions were a lot easier to read.

Today we didn't fight. Neither of us picked a fight. Today we trained the mind. I didn't have to limp back to my room like a beaten dog. I didn't feel as stressed as I had been, or perhaps as stressed as I should have been.

The last thing I remember studying that day was something to do with computer science. Something to do with hacking. Although he said that we were going to study strategy he varied the subjects. In the days following we never had the same schedule twice.

"You're dismissed."

I looked up from my work. Instead of complaining or refusing to do the work he assigned I just did it, and today I decided to do it well. Nodding, I scooted out of my seat and began to walk back to my room.

"Dick."

I stopped walking, waiting for him to speak. I heard him stand up and begin walking towards me, his footsteps loud and echoing in the main room. I turned around to face him. He lifted his hand, as though he meant to place it on my shoulder, but then he seemed to think better of it.

"Good job today," Slade said.

It didn't take much effort to say thank you. But when it came to Slade, I didn't want to offer him any more politeness than he deserved. If I were, as Slade suggested that I was, a truly villainous character I would have said something awful. But how could I say something terrible to him now? It's not that I worried about being rude, because God knows I was rude to him all the time. No, I didn't know how to act. I knew what to say, but I didn't know how to say it. I shrugged. That was all I could offer.

Without speaking I spun around, stuck my hands deep inside my pocket, and continued to walk back to my room. He didn't follow.

As I lay down to sleep I wondered if Raven would try to contact me again. But did I want to establish contact with the Titans? Every day I spent here I learned more about Slade. Soon I would know enough to get him arrested.

It wasn't a bad day. In retrospect, it had been rather nice. Well, as nice as it could be with Slade around. Again, I didn't forget the threats he made towards me. I wasn't going to allow myself to be fooled.

Then again, perhaps I already was.

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><p><strong>AN: **I'm actually rather pleased with this chapter. I wrote this chapter when I was in an extremely good mood, which probably accounts for all of the snarky goodness.

Sherlock reference was intentional. Very intentional.

Review!


	16. Discombobulate

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Teen Titans. Or Slade. Or anyone, really.

**A/N: **Hey there! It's my last update before Christmas! I rather like this chapter and I hope you like it too!

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><p>Chapter 14: Discombobulate<p>

**-SW- **

Early evening. Usually I worked well into the night while everyone else slept. I broke up the day into segments, though. After dinner Dick went back to his room to get ready for more training. We spent most of the past few days working on hacking techniques and strategy. The change in subject matter seemed to calm him down a bit. It didn't stress him out as much.

"Sir?" Wintergreen's voice cut through my thoughts.

"What, Will?"

"I thought you were worried about Batman," Wintergreen said. "Wouldn't it be more prudent to run? Or move away from here?"

"Why?"

"If Batman does find you...which he eventually will...what's to stop Grayson from running away?"

That was a problem I had been pondering for the past two weeks. Right now I could only watch Batman investigate his way closer and closer to me. Like a grand chess master he used the Titans as his eyes and ears. With Batman organizing the Titans in a way Dick never could Batman managed to get a hell of a lot of information.

"Running is the coward's way out. Dick knows that. Besides, I intend to make Batman meet his match. Here in Jump."

Strangely enough, both the boy and I accused each other of cowardice. Biased as I am, I knew that I had no right to say who was right or not. In my mind, though, I was right. And I was going to live by the standard I set for myself and others.

"It doesn't matter," Wintergreen said. "The boy will run if he is given the chance to."

"Of course he will," I said, "and when he does it will be towards his own destruction."

Well, not the path of destruction per say, but down the right path. The better path. At first he'll feel as though he's going down the wrong path, but he'll come to understand and appreciate what I did for him.

Surprise crossed Will's face. "I don't think I understand, sir."

"Leave it to me, Will." I smiled reassuringly. "Where is he, anyway?"

It was a precarious line to walk. There was no guarantee that my plan would work. I have to admit that it was mostly guesswork. But one could never get anything accomplished unless one took risks.

"He's waiting for you in the gym," Wintergreen said. "You told him to meet you there. Are you going senile?"

"You're hilarious," I replied dryly. "Just slipped my mind."

I walked to the gym, where Dick sat on a bench waiting for me. He looked up when he heard me approach. For the past two weeks he hadn't been wearing his mask. I didn't care. Outside of the Haunt he could do whatever he wanted with his secret identity. I only used it to get through to him.

"No snide comment today?"

"Let's just get this over with." He spoke in a clipped, curt voice.

At least I didn't have to deal with any of his snide comments today. The attitude change w,as definitely welcome. We began to train. Although he didn't fight as angrily as he usually did I noticed that he fought with considerably less enthusiasm. It wasn't that he refused to fight, like he used to do, but he fought without style. Like a common street fighter. He could do so much better.

"You're not thinking!" I snapped suddenly.

He froze mid-punch, sudden fear effusing his face. I could almost hear the questions sprawl through his head: _what did I do wrong? Why did I do something wrong? Is he going to hurt me? _

Dick lowered his arm slowly, unsure what to do or say.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Don't be. Just think before you throw a punch. The Bat didn't teach you well enough. Detective skills will only get you so far," I said, "and even your detective skills could use some work."

"I was taught by the best."

"Just because you were taught by the best doesn't mean that you are the best."

"Who taught you, then?" Dick asked.

Dick had unwittingly barged into dangerous territory. I knew that, unless he somehow discovered who Addie was, then I had no reason to be angry with him. It was an innocent question, yet I knew that Dick was far from an innocent child. Any information he discovered could be used against me. But if I were to answer his question I would say that Addie taught me how to fight. I credit her, not the US Military, for the impeccable training I received.

"That isn't important." My tone said enough. Not wanting a snarky reply, I continued to speak. "It's not enough to step back and look at the details," I said. "You have to summarize an enemy in an instant. I will give you an example of the kind of thought process I want you to emulate."

Without warning I threw a punch at him. Startled, he struggled to defend himself. It didn't take a genius to know that he hated it when I attacked him like this. He ducked out of the way of my oncoming fist and dove to the floor. In an instant he had bounced back to his feet. He grabbed a nearby bo-staff.

"Disarm," I began. I brought my hand crashing down on his wrist, forcing him to let go of the bo-staff. "Opponent leaning too far forward: use momentum to trip."

Before he had time to protest I tripped him. He crashed ungracefully to the floor. Dick spun over to his back and held up a hand.

"Hey, wait just-"

"Opponent attempting to distract me. Use opportunity to incapacitate him."

"Slade, wait—"

_WHAM! _

He doubled-over as I kicked him in the stomach. Realizing that I was going to continue attacking him, Dick tried to stand up and fight back. He threw his fists at me. I backed away easily.

"Opponent still functional. Adjust strategy." I caught one of his fists and used his momentum to pull him towards me to meet my other fist. "Last but not least: discombobulate."

As he was still recovering from the my other punch I slapped him. Dazed, he stumbled backwards and blinked away the stars in his vision. I didn't hurt him that much, but the expression on his face told more than he could ever say in words: he was scared of me, and I understood why. I attacked him without any warning. I didn't even allow him the opportunity to defend himself. It was my belief that it was that more than the beating that scared him: the sense of helplessness made him feel humiliated. Feeling bad, I held out a hand.

"That's my thought process. Get the picture?" I pulled him to his feet. "From now on I want you to voice your game-plan to me during training," I said, "I want to know that you're thinking."

"Doesn't that just defeat the purpose?" he asked dryly. "You don't need to hear my thoughts to beat me."

"You rush into a fight without thinking. You have brain: use it." I picked up the bo-staff and tossed it back. "Let's try this again."

We went over different techniques. Even when he was forced to talk I knew that it was difficult for him to say his strategy out loud. Strategy wasn't something one learned overnight. But as the hours passed he performed adequately enough. By the end of the training session he was able to hit me. Not that I was trying to hurt him...he just acted like I was out to get him.

"Good work," I said, "you're doing much better than last time."

I tossed him a water bottle. He caught it and sat down on a bench. Part of me wanted to lecture him on being rude, but I understood why it was hard for him to say "thank you." After he said it once it would be easier to say it again.

"Only because I'm beginning to reach _your _standards."

"Believe it or not this isn't all about me."

"Thank you for clearing up that misconception. Your infuriating ego says otherwise."

"Your puerile jokes are getting tiresome."

"As are your condescending insults."

He wiped excess water from his chin with the back of his hand. If there was one thing we both had in common it was this: we had this peculiar gift of annoying each other. Once one got past the whole "arch-enemies" deal his banter was rather fun.

"Don't take everything personally."

"What? I'm supposed to take any of this personally?" he asked, standing up. "You have a funny way of doing things, Slade."

I thought he was going to storm out of the room, but he didn't. He knew that I would snap at him if he left without permission. Dick was getting better at following orders, just like a good soldier should. He looked like he wanted to leave, though. He shifted his weight uneasily, as though anxious. He had to stop feeling that way. A sudden idea popped into my head.

"Why don't we go out for a walk?"

"What?"

"I think you've been shut up here for too long." I turned to look at him. "Go grab a jacket. We'll go for a walk on the pier."

He just stared at me. He didn't move. After a few seconds he turned and began to walk back to his room. Another door opened. Wintergreen poked his head into the room.

"What's going on, sir?"

"Dick needs to clear his head. We're going for a walk."

"Oh. Have fun with that."

The sarcasm in his voice was thicker than blood. While Wintergreen had good notions he didn't understand that my relationship with Dick was changing from hatred to mutual annoyance. I found myself less and less annoyed or angry with the boy nowadays.

Maybe I was getting lazy. Who knows? The less formal I was around him the less he tried to pick a fight with me. Dick came back within two minutes. He made his way towards the front door.

I grabbed his arm."You run, boy, and I'll give you hell."

"I won't run."

He said this quietly, resignedly, as though he was ashamed to say this.

I let go of his arm. Part of me still didn't trust him. Then again, he did everything he was told to do. Dick zipped up his jacket and slouched after me.

"Stand up straighter," I snapped, pushing him forward by the small of his back. "Don't slouch."

The glower he shot at me could have killed some small animal, but he didn't say anything. He had no choice but to follow me if he wanted to get outside the Haunt. I cupped a hand on his shoulder and led him out the door.

It was a cold night. As we walked I could tell that he was concocting an escape plan. If he did try to run I would easily catch him. But he was smarter than that. He wasn't going to run.

We walked along the alleyway. Although he walked calmly beside me I watched him survey his surroundings. The Haunt was located in a sketchy part of town that resembled Bludhaven more than anything else. A half-moon hung white and fat above the city, which still bubbled with life at this late hour.

He didn't talk to me. I didn't expect him to. Mist puffed out of his mouth and trailed behind him like cigarette smoke. Obnoxious neon lights flashed obscene advertisements to us. Dick averted his eyes as we passed adult nightclubs, staring determinedly at the cracked sidewalk. We passed seedy men who offered Dick, not me, pot.

"Maybe when you're older, kid," one man said, nudging Dick with his elbow and winking, "and when you get rid of your grumpy old man."

I couldn't help but smirk as Dick shot a cold glare to the seller. His hero instincts were probably screaming and writhing with suppressed rage. However, there was nothing he could do except wave the man off.

"So what's the point of this, exactly?" Dick demanded.

"Why do you always assume that I everything we do has a purpose?" I asked.

"My goal in life is to piss you off, remember?"

"Ah yes. A worthy goal."

Fine. I made fun of him. Sometimes he was really asking for it, and mocking him sometimes shut him up. He could handle it.

Besides, I could tell that he liked being outside. Despite the late hour he crackled with energy, energy that I wished he put to better use during his training sessions. Being cooped up inside for several weeks could make anyone go mad. I know that I nearly did that when I was forced to stay inside all day, back when the military experimented on me. While I did have my kids to entertain me I couldn't physically move. I was too sick to move. The difference between me and him was that I didn't let him go outside. Call me paranoid, call me a control freak, but in essence that was what I was. I knew that about myself.

"I really hate your guts," Dick said, "haven't told you that today. Thought I should fill my daily quota."

"Don't be a child."

"You're not any better."

"You started it."

We walked past the sketchy part of town to downtown, eventually walking all the way to the pier. It was a long walk, but I didn't mind. I don't Dick did. The palm trees lining the board walk rustled in the breeze. The tide was in, the water gently lapping against the thick wooden columns supporting the pier.

Sometimes Addie and I used to take the boys to the beach. Grant liked to chase the seagulls and go boogie boarding. Joey and his mother would make sandcastles. I shook the memories from myself. There was no need to think of them. They were not involved in my life anymore and it was better that way. We were the only ones walking along the boardwalk, passing by the occasional drunk who decided to sleep on the beach that night.

I offered little conversation. I didn't need it; I enjoyed companionable silence. I wasn't much of a talkative man anyway, not even with the little friends I had.

The Ferris wheel and booths were already closed, but the pier was open. During the day fishermen would cast their lines over the rail. Seagulls would make their rounds as children threw them bread crumbs. The harbor restaurants looked cold and empty without people. I didn't live out on the West Coast before my career as a mercenary. I went wherever the military told me to go. Now I lived wherever I wanted to. We walked off the boardwalk and onto the pier.

I needed a walk. Although I was out-of-town for a few days I hadn't had the time to slow down and think. He ran a hand through his messy hair.

"You're right," he said.

"About what?"

"I need a haircut." He shrugged. "Or, you know, you could let me go out and buy hair gel."

"If you want it you go steal it."

"I don't need to. I'm the heir to Wayne Enterprises. I have more money than I know what to do with."

"You don't have access to that money yet."

"Ignoring the legal details," he interjected huffily, "the point is that I'm better off with Bruce."

He leaned against the railing and looked out at the bay. The chilly wind ruffled his hair. He didn't look at me. Perhaps he wanted to relish this moment—this little bit of freedom he hadn't had in nearly a month. Perhaps he wanted to imagine that he wasn't my apprentice, that he actually had some say in his future.

Will was right: Dick wasn't my kid. Maybe I didn't have any right to kidnap him. But hell, he wasn't really anyone's kid now. Not with his parents dead. Wayne left him to the care of his butler for the most part.

I tried. No matter what Addie thought I tried to be a good father to our kids. It was hard for me at times. To encourage, to help...but I did everything I could.

There were a lot of things I could have said. Unlike Wayne and Dick I grew up with my parents. But there was a reason why I lied about my age to enlist in the military. I messed up. I messed up a lot. In a way, it better that Joey was with Addie. He was safer with her. But should I just give up after failing to raise my own boys well? No.

Try again. Always try again and again until you finally got it right.

"You're a gifted young man," I said, nearly forcing the words out of my mouth. "I think your parents understood that you were meant for the spotlight."

"Those words sound weird coming from you," Dick said. "After everything you've done to me I can't take that seriously. I really can't."

He had a point. I didn't give him praise often enough, so when I did offer it even I found it odd. Sometimes I feel as though that was the mistake I made with my boys. True, it was mostly my fault that he thought of me in such a negative light.

"Is this really so bad?" I asked. "Answer me this: compared to other villains, am I really that bad?"

At first Dick didn't have an answer for me. He knew that answer. I knew it. My intention was never to hurt him or use him to get to Batman. While I can't say that I automatically cared for him like a son when I first dreamed of the apprenticeship I think I began to now.

"No." He gripped the wooden railing tightly. "It's not."

"That's right: it's not." I stood next to him, imitating his stance. "You have to stop thinking in black-and-white terms. There are shades of gray in the world, Dick. I'm not such a bad guy, once you get to know me."

Something told me that he hated every word that came out of my mouth. Dick hated how reasonable I sounded. He hated how _human _I acted without the mask on. But what could he do? What could he say that wouldn't make him the bad guy here? He shrugged.

The dark outline of Titans Towers stood out starkly in the distance. Several lights were still on in the Titans common room. What were they doing? Still searching for him? Probably. I wished that I could just get rid of them, but right now I couldn't do that. If Dick knew that I planned to kill the Titans he would never trust me.

"Let's go."

Hesitantly, Dick straightened and followed me, his neck twisting as he fought for one last look at the Tower. When he tried to stop I grabbed his elbow and pulled him along. I made a mental note not to take the route home that passed by Wayne Enterprises.

He stopped in front of a jewelry store. Understandably, Dick was in no hurry to walk back to the Haunt. He looked at the jewelry displays. The darkness prevented me from reading the expression on his face. I glanced at what he was looking at: the wedding rings.

"How did you propose to her?"

At first I thought I misheard him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Your _wife." _He looked hard at me. "Unless you swing the other way arou-?"

"Shut it."

He smirked at my reaction. His eyes focused on my left hand. I looked down and realized with a sudden jolt that my golden wedding ring glinted on my finger. How long had that been there? Well, there was no denying it now. I worked the ring off of my finger and placed it inside my pocket. Sometimes I forget that I still wear it. Dick was paying attention after all.

"You were in love, weren't you?" Dick asked. "You're still in love."

I wasn't going to let this brat get the better of me. "Why, do you find that amusing?"

"Two can play at this game, Slade," Dick said. "Besides, do you think I've forgotten that wonderful speech about _powerful women? _Dear God, the jokes I could make...ow!"

I punched him hard in the shoulder. "The first thing you should know is that you will _never _joke about her."

He massaged his shoulder and winced. "I guess I deserved that."

Neither of us moved. Dick didn't look at me. He stared off into space, avoiding my gaze. He could mock me all he wanted. I really didn't care. Insults bounced off me. But mocking Addie...even remotely indirectly...was not okay. I didn't care if she shot my eye out. In retrospect, she had good reason to attack me. I did put Joey's life in danger.

"You're not going to talk about her, are you?"

"No. It's none of your business."

"Starfire was also none of your business."

Without warning Dick smashed a fist through the glass. I must admit that he startled _me. _Sure he was occasionally prone to violence, but not this kind of violence. He flexed his fingers and winced as he examined the cuts on his knuckles.

"Hey," I said, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around, "what the hell was that for?"

Wanton destruction wasn't on my list of things to teach. That was one of the reasons why I didn't want to teach a kid from the HIVE Academy. I knew that he wouldn't want to randomly destroy things. Dick squirmed away from me. I grabbed the collar of his jacket and shook him.

"Answer me," I hissed.

"Why?" he spat. "Let go."

He kicked away the rest of the glass and hopped into the store. Broken shards of glass crunched underneath his shoes as he walked around the store. An alarm began to ring.

"You know, there is a time and a place for thievery," I called out. "While I appreciate the enthusiasm we really do have to leave."

Dick didn't respond.

"Dick?"

Sirens wailed in the distance. I straightened and looked into the store. Dick stood behind the counter. Wrapping his jacket sleeve around his clenched fist, Dick smashed open another display case. What the hell was he doing?

"We have three minutes before the cops come," Dick snapped, backing away from me. "You don't want to make a scene, do you?"

_If I take out every cop Batman will know, _I thought suddenly. _He won't care if the cops arrest some petty thief...but he will care if a petty thief takes them all down. I can't bring attention to myself. _

Unwittingly, for I was sure that Dick didn't know about Batman being in town, Dick had assured his escape. Sure I could make him leave. Sure, I could take down every single cop here with my hand behind my back, but what good would it do me? Although the cops would definitely contact Wayne once Dick was in custody I couldn't allow Wayne to know that I was involved in this. Not just yet.

"Dick, you don't want to be arrested..." I said slowly, "come on. Don't be stupid."

"I'm willing to be arrested for my crimes. That's the difference between you and me: I take responsibility. _You _don't."

He lifted a glittering necklace from its velvet-covered display. All at once I could see him as the clever thief Red X. There was a curious smugness about him as he examined the necklace. This wasn't the first time he had stolen something. I knew that. This was the first time he stole out of pure whim. However, there was no time to revel in this. His words stung in ways he couldn't even begin to imagine.

"You don't know anything about me," I said quietly, "you have no right to make such an accusation."

"You're a criminal! That's all I need to know."

Dick picked up a shard of glass and pointed it at me. I shook my head slowly, a slight smirk twisting my lips.

"You don't have the guts to do it."

"Really?" Dick's voice sounded a bit higher than usual. "You said that you were going to teach me how to kill. Deep down, you really believe that I have the guts to do it."

His grip on the glass shard tightened. Blood trickled down his wrist. The expression on his face was that of a desperate, cornered man. And what could I say to him? That he was wrong? No. He was right: I just contradicted myself. And why did I contradict myself? Because I didn't want him to get arrested. I didn't want him to do something stupid. Besides, he didn't have enough training to pose any kind of threat.

Well, at least a threat to _me. _

"What are you going to do, stab me?" I asked, holding out my arms. "Then go ahead. I won't stop you."

I wasn't afraid of him. However, Dick didn't move. The necklace fell from his hand and onto the floor. I saw Dick's plan unfold in front of my very eyes: he was going to allow himself to be arrested for a crime he had no intention of completing. In a way he was using my expectations for him against me.

_Touche, _I thought dryly.

"Is killing the only way I can earn my freedom?" Dick asked. "Because it sure as hell looks like it."

If he wasn't going to kill me with that shard of glass then what was he going to do? Kill the cops? If he made any threatening move they would bring out their guns. He needed to put that thing down.

"It's your life. Are you going to let people trample all over you?"

"No. That's why I'm asking you to leave. You can't make me leave. You can't make me be your apprentice. You can't control me."

Now let me lay out my predicament to you, dear reader: I couldn't just tackle Dick, knock him out and be done with it. That is what the villain in me would do. For the past few weeks I've been working hard to gain his trust. This was just his deranged way of testing me. Somehow I needed to talk him out of this.

"There are more reasonable ways to discuss this."

"We're past that, Slade. Beneath all your pretty banter is nothing. _Nada._ Every single word you say to me is just another one of your manipulations."

Some may say that I underestimated the boy's intelligence, that I underestimated just how dangerous he really was. The truth is, though, that I didn't underestimate him. I understood the risks he was willing to take. Even now I admired the great risk he took to acquire his freedom.

"Right now I want you to _stay alive," _I said. "Put the shard down."

As I stepped forward he swung it at me. I dodged it easily. It seemed to take every ounce of his mental will to attack me. His determination, more than anything else, fueled this mad bid for freedom. We didn't have time to fight.

"No."

He was being dangerously stupid, and perhaps he he knew it. As the sirens grew louder and louder I realized that I was going to have to leave him behind. I allowed my hands to fall to my sides.

"You're a fool, Richard Grayson."

"Maybe you're the fool," Dick snarled, "for thinking that I could ever be your successor."

I heard the cop cars skid around the corner. I needed to leave. I couldn't afford to be arrested. I backed away slowly. There was no doubt in my mind that we were going to meet again. I would make sure of it.

"Give Mr. Wayne my regards," I said, "if he even bothers to pay your bail."

I turned my back and left. Instead of leaving the scene I climbed up to the rooftop of a nearby building. Despite my anger I wanted to watch this. I watched the scene unfold in silence.

As the cops tumbled out of their cars Dick dropped the shard of bloodied glass. Policemen swarmed around him, demanding questions I couldn't hear. He raised his hands and said nothing. My guts told me that he wasn't going to move. He wasn't going to fight back. I watched in silence as the cops cuffed him and led him to the back of a police car.

True to his word, Dick didn't run: he had found another way to leave.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **For some reason parts of this chapter remind me of scenes from _Little Miss Sunshine. _Oh well.

Sorry to leave it on such a cliffie, but I'll be out-of-town for the next week! Merry Christmas/Happy Hanukkah/Kwanza/Winter Solstice/Snowman Day to you all!

There are, of course, some vague references to Sherlock Holmes 1 and 2 here. :D

~H


	17. How Inconvienient

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of these characters.

**A/N: **I have a few things to say here. Firstly, happy New Year!

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><p>Chapter 15: How Inconvenient<p>

**-DG- **

I knew that the police would be able to identify me. But in those few seconds I decided to make a break for it I decided that a little blemish on my record was better than staying with Slade.

I sat still and silent in the back of the room. Other criminals milled about, most of them ignoring me. Most of them were drunk public nuisances there for the night, but there were a few I was wary of. The obvious thieves all knew who Robin the Boy Wonder was. If any of them knew that I was really Robin, then I would be toast. Burnt toast. With this in mind, I didn't sleep the entire night. However, I was more scared that Slade would find me or kidnap me again. He certainly had the means to do so.

I looked up as the door opened. Every so often another guy was brought in or out of the room. A middle-aged man stumbled into the room as an officer shoved him inside. Before the officer shut the door he looked straight at me.

"You get one phone call, kid," the officer told me, "do you want to use it?"

I shook my head. I could have called the Tower, but what good would it have done me? Maybe I should have called Cyborg's cell phone, which was located in his arm. Yeah, call them and ask them to bail me out. Smart idea. Way to gain their trust, Grayson.

It wasn't that they wouldn't have bailed me out and listened. I just didn't want to talk to anyone. Besides, the police didn't need me to call anyone. After fingerprinting me they knew who they should call. My identity was obvious. To them, at least.

"What are you here for, sunshine?"

The man who just came in stood next to me. He stank of alcohol and didn't have any shoes on. When I didn't answer he put a hand on my shoulder. "I asked ya a question, kid."

Sighing heavily, I leaned forward and wondered why the hell I thought this was a good idea. What did I expect to happen after this? If I escaped from the police station I'd definitely be on the run. I had no choice but to wait for Bruce to haul his butt out to Jump City.

"I'd like to sit down, and you're on the last seat."

Looking around, I realized that the other chairs in the room were occupied by bigger men. He obviously thought that I would be easier to push around. Well, if he continued to annoy me then he would realized that you don't mess with me. Not while I was in such a foul mood.

"Go away."

The other men in the room looked around in interest. When I didn't move the man grabbed two fistfuls of my jacket and lifted me off the chair.

"I said _move." _

As No-Shoes moved his fist back to punch me I moved. Without thinking I grabbed his incoming fist and acted, my movements fluid and controlled. I pulled him into my punch, using his momentum to knock him into next Tuesday. Hot blood ran down my wrist as I slammed my palm into his nose.

"Hey!" he exclaimed.

Several officers flooded into the room to break up the fight. A pair of hands dragged me away as the drunk keeled over, his hands over his broken nose. Strangely enough, I didn't sympathize with him that much.

"Knock it off, kid," an officer said.

I didn't say anything. It was pointless to defend myself, especially in a room full of criminals.

He let me go, but he didn't leave the room. Some of the other men in the room shot curious glances at me as they dispersed. The man I attacked wiped blood from his face with the back of his hand and glared at me.

"Hey, Grayson," the officer said, "someone's here to see you."

"Daddy gonna bail you out?" No-Shoes asked. "Have fun with that."

I didn't answer. I simply followed the officer towards an interrogation room. Funny. I was usually on the other side of the table. My hands curled into fists as I waited. Seconds dragged on, but I was patient. This was nothing compared to the silence Slade subjected me to.

A familiar dark-haired man in a suit stepped into the room. Automatically I straightened, suddenly going tense as I recognized him.

"Bruce?"

Wasn't he supposed to be in Gotham? How did he get here so quickly? Bruce didn't answer. For a few long seconds he looked at me, contemplated me, his great detective mind quietly breaking dow the situation. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked away from him.

"Aren't you supposed to be in Gotham?"

"Aren't you supposed to be with your friends?"

For the first time in months he mentioned my friends. Bruce never bothered to call, not even when my friends and I made the front page. He never called to congratulate me or give me advice on how to run my team. Some mentor he was.

"Your friends called me," he said in a low voice, "we've been looking for you for a month and you show up like this...breaking into a _jewelry store?" _

Could I explain? Did I want to explain? How could I explain everything to Bruce? Words failed me. So much had happened over the past month that I didn't even know where to begin. I must admit that my exit from Slade's control wasn't as graceful as I had hoped. And the Titans called _Bruce? _

Did they even trust me?

"It's a little complicated."

"Make it simple, then."

Straightforward, as always. Even though I was raised by this man since I was eight that didn't mean that I was like him. Oh, sure, I tried to emulate him, but we were very different. Those differences drove us apart. Sometimes it's hard to imagine us ever getting along.

"I'm sorry that I can't dumb it down for you," I said quietly, my voice tinged with anger, "you'll just have to deal with it."

Bruce's eyes narrowed.

"Don't talk to me like that."

After everything that had happened I wasn't afraid to stand up to Bruce. I mean, yeah, I shouted at him before, but my respect for him always prevented me from hating him. Standing up to people, especially people you respect, takes guts. Bruce was the epitome of that.

"I know about Red X," Bruce said in an even lower voice, "your friends might not be smart enough to figure it out, but you're the thief they're looking for."

Charming as ever, Bruce. You sure know how to make me feel better. My expression never changed, although I heard blood pounding in my head.

"I have my reasons."

Wrong answer. Normally I would have said something to appease him, but I was tired of appeasing other people. I didn't want to answer to anyone.

"I'm bringing you back home," Bruce said, "and you better have a good explanation for this."

"So you are paying my bail."

Having Bruce pay my bail was rather like him rescuing me. But this time I wasn't crying out for Bruce to save me from the villains. Although he didn't look it I knew he was mad. Once we were out of the JCPD headquarters he would give me hell.

"What you did is outside police jurisdiction," he growled, "You're not their problem, you're mine."

So I was a problem, then. I know that wasn't exactly what he meant (Bruce wasn't _that _eloquent with words), but his diction still bothered me. It also didn't help my mood. It took Bruce a few seconds to realize what he was saying.

"I'm sorry. You're not a problem. But you know why—"

"No. I get it. I am a problem. I'm sorry that I'm taking up so much of your precious time."

Was Bruce going to try to understand? Did he suspect that Slade was involved in all of this? Or was he going to place the blame on me? Bruce glanced at his watch and grimaced. So I _was _taking up his time.

"You used Xinothium in your suit," he snapped quietly, "that's worth more than a grounding."

There was a growl in his voice he reserved for particularly heinous criminals. After a moment I decided not to retort to that.

"Do my friends know?"

"That you're here? No."

Except for Starfire none of them knew I was Red X. But did I really expect Bruce to tell my team that I was temporarily incarcerated? If I knew him as well as I thought I did, then he would try to fix the situation by himself. That's how he worked. He only worked with others if necessary. Me, I usually worked the other way around. I liked being around people.

"Look," Bruce said, "I'm going to bail you out. On the way back to Gotham you are going to _explain _what the _hell _you've been up to and why."

Back to Gotham. That was the last place I wanted to be. Save for Alfred, I didn't want to see anyone I knew. I didn't want to explain myself over and over again. Yeah, I liked being around people, but right now I needed to be alone. And even though I wanted to be alone I knew that Bruce wouldn't let me.

"I don't want to go back to Gotham."

"I don't care. I'm seriously considering making you _stay _in Gotham."

Bruce had the power to strip me of my title. Not being allowed to fight crime was the worst thing he could do. Maybe even worse than staying in jail. I couldn't just sit there and let my friends risk their lives every day. Bruce cut me off as I opened my mouth to argue.

"Don't argue with me," he said, "this is final. You need to be home."

Home. Gotham. Was that really where I was supposed to be? Or was I supposed to be with my friends? I didn't know.

"I don't know what your reason is for stealing. You crossed the line with the Xinothium, Dick."

"I crossed the line?" I stood up. "You don't understand. I did what I had to do. You can't _make _me go back!"

"Yes I can!" Bruce didn't yell, but anger simmered in his words. "I shouldn't have let you come here by yourself. It was a mistake. I'm supposed to take care of you, make sure that you don't get into trouble, yet here you are."

His words hung ominously over my head. Without waiting for me to speak he turned around to speak to the officers just outside the door.

"Wait here while I take care of this."

Without another word Bruce left the room. What was I, then? The ward he took on for charity reasons again? Or the little kid who needed to be rescued?

_I'm not that kid anymore. _

Those days were over. I never intended to work alongside Batman again. He knew that. But Bruce had allowed me to accompany him on his crime-fighting sprees. Something told me that if I continued to backtalk Bruce _would _stop me from fighting crime.

_Can he really stop me, though? _

Well, he was _the _Batman. If criminals fled in fear from him, why not his associates and former sidekicks? But after facing Slade, after dealing with him without any kind of help made me insensitive to Bruce's threats. Yeah, I was indignant, but I would find a way to continue fighting if I had to. I've just been fighting for so long that I couldn't stop.

What if Slade was right? Didn't I say that he was? Was everything he claimed unreasonable? Do I really trust my friends?

The truth was that I didn't. No matter how much I wanted to not believe it, Slade was right about me not trusting my friends. I didn't trust them with my plan to catch Slade. I didn't trust Batman enough to tell him what I was up to either. Who did I trust, then?

I didn't know. I didn't have much time to contemplate.

Heat scorched my back as the wall behind me exploded. The impact threw me off my feet. Rubble rained down on me as I rolled underneath the table for cover. A secondary explosion rocked the room. Coughing, I waved smoke away from my face as I surveyed the damage. The blast destroyed the wall behind me, revealing a street full of panicked civilians.

"Bruce?"

No one answered.

But something beeped instead.

Shifting through the rubble, I found the source of the noise: a cell phone. Where did it come from? I brushed dust off of the screen and looked at the text message.

_Come at once, if convenient. _

Wait...what the hell? I didn't recognize the cell phone number, but I had a suspicion. I gazed out of the hole in the wall. The cell phone beeped again.

_If inconvenient, come anyway. _

Even I knew who those comments were from. A black car pulled up. The door opened. I found myself staring back at Slade, who waited for me to say or do something. I tossed the cell phone back into the car.

"You are a sociopath."

"Very good, you used the correct word."

"How did you detonate the bomb?"

"Why don't you figure it out, little detective?"

"Are you insulting me?"

"Not at all. It's a term of endearment." Slade grinned. "Doesn't Ra's al Ghul refer to Batman as 'Detective'?"

"I'm not Batman."

"And I'm not Ra's al Ghul." Slade smirked. "Now's not the time for soul-searching, Dick. You better move."

Panicked shouts issued from inside the police station. The police were closing in. The answer to my question, of course, was in my hand: the cell phone. No-Shoes managed to sneak that through and planted it on me. I didn't say anything.

"By the way, your performance against the drunk was impressive." Slade grinned. "It may have been over-the-top, but you were effective."

Why did he say these things to me? Praise me? Slade knew that I used Xinothium in my Red X suit, but he praised my ingenuity. Bruce would never do that. He thought it was a better idea to discipline me for that. Although I wasn't looking for praise it was nice to hear it sometimes.

I didn't know what to do.

My mind locked in sudden fear. I had mere seconds to make a decision. None of my available options were desirable. I didn't want to go back to the police station. I didn't want to face Bruce. I didn't want to face my friends and admit that I lied to them. I also didn't want to run back to Slade. Then again, I wouldn't have to deal with Bruce if I did.

Who was the coward here? Me? Would I be a coward for running away from my friends? From Bruce? Or was I doing them a favor by preserving my image?

"Are you going to get in, or should I just leave you here?"

Slade wasn't going to help me, was he? Glancing up and down the street, I wondered how long it would take for Batman to appear. Maybe he was hurt in the blast...?

"Aren't you going to kidnap me or something?"

"No. That would be counterproductive."

Sirens wailed. Even if I allowed the police to arrest me again the charges against me would be more serious. It would be obvious that the building was blown apart to free me. I gritted my teeth as I realized what Slade had done.

"Well? Are you getting in the car or not?"

Against my better judgment I stepped into the car and shut the door behind me.

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><p><strong>AN: **I've been in a very Sherlock mood lately, mostly because I've been fangasming over the latest episode. I decided to just continue running with the allusions throughout this fic. XD

Also, I know the chapter numbers are weird. Just go with the flow.


	18. Family Matters

**Disclaimer: **I don't own these characters.

**A/N: **Well, I wasn't sure if I would be able to write another chapter before classes started! So here ya go. No idea what my updating schedule will be like this semester. I'll tell you after a week or two of classes.

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><p>Chapter 16: Family Matters<p>

** -SW- **

Well, well, this was getting interesting.

Honestly, I didn't expect things to run so smoothly. True, I was angry that he escaped last night, but then I realized that I had to be flexible. Perhaps it was better this way. It gave Dick the chance to talk to Wayne, to realize that everything I ever said about him was true.

During the night I planted cameras in the cell. Once I realized that Dick was using moves I taught him I smirked. The doubt engendered by our conversations finally got through to him. I didn't speak to him as I drove.

He fidgeted in his seat, not even bothering to buckle his seat belt. Shock settled into him as he realized what he did. Rubble dusted his hair and jacket, but he didn't seem to mind.

"No," Dick said suddenly, "bad decision."

His fingers fumbled for the car lock, but he didn't find it. Knowing that he was about to panic, I decided to pull over near the boardwalk. I didn't want to accidentally crash the car. As soon as the car slowed to a stop Dick found the lock. Before I unbuckled my seat belt Dick had bolted.

"Dick!"

Without a backward glance he headed straight for the boardwalk. While I knew that Dick never intended to stay with me he was my responsibility now. I slammed the car door shut behind me and ran after him. People snapped at him as his pushed through the crowd, their protests rising as I hurried after him. Similar insults were thrown at me as I pushed people out of my way.

"What are you looking at?" I snapped at a woman shooting me a dirty look.

The eye-patch naturally gathered attention, but I learned long ago to ignore most of the odd glances. In his haste to get away he tripped on the wooden boardwalk. Easily catching up to him, I held out a hand to him, offering to help him up. He scuttled backwards into the sand. Of course. I grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back to his feet.

"Let me go!"

Being out in public like this made me nervous. Unless Dick shouted something stupid, then I was fine. He wasn't stupid enough to reveal his secret identity in front of a crowd of people. Besides, no one recognized him. If anyone realized that he was Bruce Wayne's ward then we would be in trouble. Dick twisted out of his jacket and began to run again.

"Damn," I muttered.

Did I ever have to deal with this kind of behavior with my boys? Grant was more prone to temper tantrums than his brother, but that was when he was little. I wasn't dealing with a small child. I was dealing with a teenager.

He ran clumsily on the beach, nearly falling down once or twice in the soft sand. Not wanting to look suspicious, I walked. Dick headed towards the stretch of beach that lay underneath the pier. I quickened my pace and caught up to him.

I grabbed his wrists. "Calm down."

Struggling to free himself, Dick said nothing. Pure, blind panic effused him. For a few seconds he tried very hard to free himself, but eventually he stopped trying. He shook slightly, as though afraid that I was going to hurt him.

"Please let go."

No, I wasn't going to let go. Not until he understood that I wasn't the bad guy here; that I wasn't going to hurt him.

"Where would you have gone? What would you have done?" I asked quietly. "Let yourself be arrested again?"

"The Tower. I want to go home..."

He was lying, but I don't think he was aware that he was.

We weren't alone on the beach. It was a Saturday afternoon on a summer's day. The beach—incidentally the same one we walked by last night—looked over to the bay. It was also packed. People shot us puzzled glances as they walked by. Instead of being the sullen, brooding teenager I had known for two weeks Dick was being a nuisance. He wasn't being logical. Panic made him illogical. I let go of him.

He kicked at a clump of sand.

"Everything is your fault!" he snapped. "You made me leave!"

"You stepped in the car. How is this my fault?"

Unlike before I gave him a choice. I realized that if I truly wanted him to be on my side then I would have to give him a choice. Maybe that was the mistake I made with my own children. If you really wanted to convince someone that you were right then it is more prudent to prove that something is more _reasonable _to believe rather than beg the question. That is, do not make an argument with the underlying assumption that your worldview is superior. It took me a long time to realize that I did the latter with Dick. That was just one of the many reasons why he disliked me.

"I was fine before you decided to _blow up the JCPD!" _

He sat down and leaned against the wooden column supporting the pier. Waves lapped quietly against the wooden columns, bringing with them the sharp scent of ocean salt. Perhaps to him, the sound of ocean waves was more soothing than the sound of gears.

"Why did you come with me, then?"

"I don't know."

Dick ran a hand through his hair.

I could have left him there. Let him wallow in self-pity to his heart's content. Although annoyed with his mental breakdown it was inevitable that he would have one. I had to be patient. I had to be understand, to a certain degree.

"You can't sit there forever."

"Challenge accepted."

Stubborn as ever. The brat. However, his tenaciousness would serve him well later in life. No one ever got anything done without stubborn motivation. Then again, if I was going to convince him that he should work for me then I needed to give him another reason to trust me. Not something out of loyalty or duty, but something that he would understand emotionally. Wintergreen was right. After taking a moment to emotionally steady myself, I spoke.

"Her name is Addie," I said, "we were married for almost ten years. We had two boys."

I pulled him to his feet and began to brush off sand off his jacket. He looked up at me, his brow furrowed. What was he thinking? How did this information change his perception of me? Last night he discovered that I still wore my wedding ring...correctly deducing that I was still in love like some teenager.

"What happened to them?"

"Things better left unsaid."

There was no denying that his initial impression of me was that of a villain, a madman who didn't care about anyone or anything. Although Grant's death certainly made me a colder man I was still a man. Some may say that love is the only thing that separates villains from heroes, but I beg to differ. Even though I found it difficult to separate my family life from my work life in the past I still did everything I could to keep my family safe. Distancing myself from Addie and Joey now was how I did it.

What was my story? I could almost hear the question in his head. Well, I wasn't going to tell him my personal story for while, but perhaps it would be best to trickle out the information over a long period of time.

He walked out of the shadow of the pier and into the morning sun. He turned his head towards the sun and blinked. To my complete surprise he spoke in a soft, contemplating voice.

"I like California. The sun, the palm trees...the beach...it's more cheerful than Gotham. It suits me." He looked around. "I can't see Batman functioning well here."

Speaking of Batman, where was that annoying flying rodent? Sooner or later Batman was going to catch us. I know that I told him that he couldn't keep running away from his problems and that in his eyes, he was running away from Batman.

Learning how to assert himself was a trait he learned from several people. The Bat taught him how to be assertive in a hostile city. I taught him how to be assertive to his friends. Dealing with me on a daily basis forced him to more assertive. It was one thing to stand up to enemies, but quite another to stand up to friends. Dick glanced back at me.

"Aren't you going to make me come back with you?"

"Do you have anywhere better to go?"

Distrust darkened his face, although he didn't say anything.

"You don't need your friends. They can't help you. Wayne can't help you."

"And you can?"

"I got you out of prison, didn't I?"

"I can't trust you. I don't want to be in debt to you." He looked away from me. "And I don't want to be your apprentice."

Of course you don't. You said that a thousand times. What he didn't understand was that he was unwittingly becoming my apprentice. There were a million other things he needed mentoring for other than learning how to become a mercenary.

"You don't have many options."

"I don't like my options," he said, "Bruce threatened to stop me from fighting crime..."

"You have no one else to turn to, Dick. You can't go back to Wayne without repercussion. You can't go to your friends without losing their trust."

"I don't need your help, Slade. You don't help, you _control." _

He had a right to distrust me, but it was still annoying that he thought this way.

"Even if you run away Wayne will track you down. You know he will. And you'll be in even bigger trouble than you were before."

Silently, he weighed his options. After a long minute he stood up and stuck his hands deep in his pockets.

"I'm not a thief. I'm not a hero, though...not after everything I've done. And I'm a terrible friend."

"Being a terrible friend does not mean that you are a terrible human being."

For a few seconds he stood there contemplating me, contemplating my words. After spending so much time trying to get away from me, would it be worth it to go back? Would he come to regret his decision? If he asked me I knew that I wouldn't be able to give him answers.

"I can't trust you," he said again.

"You just can't trust anyone then, can you?" I shrugged. "I won't question you, Dick. Not the way he does."

Something clicked in his mind. Without another word he walked slowly towards me. I handed his jacket back to him. As we walked back to the car I heard sirens. Were some people hurt in the bomb blast? Perhaps. I didn't care. Maybe Wayne was injured. If he was then that would help me a great deal.

Nothing of interest happened on the way back to the Haunt. We met no one, not a Titan or a Bat. It was just companionable silence. Once I pulled into the driveway he opened the door and walked straight back into the Haunt.

_Well, well, _I thought as I sat in the driver's seat, watching him go, _he knows he's a hypocrite. He knows that he can't go back. Not now. _

Finally, I turned off the car and followed him inside. Wintergreen opened the door and looked down at Dick in surprise.

"Welcome back," Wintergreen said.

"Hmm."

I almost snapped at Dick for his rudeness, but I stopped myself. It was one thing for him to be rude to me, but quite another to be rude to Wintergreen. My old friend was as patient as ever. He shot me a quizzical look as he gestured for Dick to hurry inside.

"I assume that you came back of your own free will, Dick?"

"You could say that."

"I thought you didn't want to be here."

Instead of answering Wintergreen right away Dick walked around the main room in silence. Bending his head back, he examined the churning gears and the flickering monitors. A heavy sigh escaped from him.

"I don't like to leave things unfinished."

"Then why did you leave Wayne?" I asked. "Before explaining yourself?"

His eyes flickered up to meet mine. "We're done. For now."

Dick was definitely an optimist, but something snapped within him. He wasn't being very optimistic right now. There was no doubt in my mind that his heated encounter with Wayne changed his attitude.

"But you even said that you didn't give him an explanation. Don't you want to explain why you broke into a jewelry store?"

"He's the world's greatest detective. He can figure it out for himself."

I don't think I've ever heard him sound so _jaded. _Yes, I have seen him angry. At times I've seen him immensely depressed, but never this bitter. It was almost out of character. Even in the little time that I've gotten to know him I realized that he wanted to be optimistic. He wanted to see the better side of things, even if he didn't say or show it. Some part of him wanted to see if I was human, if I could be a better person. Bruce Wayne proved that when it came to the law he was unforgiving, no matter who the criminal was. Unconditional love was hard to come by. Even though Addie tried to kill me I still loved her. I knew that I would never meet another woman like her and that our time together was past, but I still cared for her. Love for someone you've cared about for a long time doesn't easily die. It was hard for me to find the right words to say this out loud, but perhaps the little detective would be able to figure that much out himself.

Dick walked away, although I didn't get the impression that he was going to leave the Haunt. He had no desire to meet with his mentor or his former friends. Not just yet. Although I had no idea what he planned to do I knew that he wanted to gather his thoughts. I would let him.

"How can you save a city when you can't save yourself?" I asked myself in a low voice.

Trade Gotham's cold-hearted angel of death for Jump City's most dangerous villain? The two options were definitely not appealing in his eyes. But if there is anything that last night showed me, it was that Dick was willing to take risks. I knew that about him before, judging from his previous actions, but yet again I was remembered that cornered men do desperate things. Last night he demonstrated his ability to adapt to new situations, to use any and all training to his advantage. He was dangerous, yet effusive and full of grace. Something that neither of my sons were not.

"Did I miss something?" Wintergreen asked.

"He has some issues to work out," I replied, "mostly with Wayne."

Vaguely I wondered when Batman would show up. Would he enlist the Titans to help him defeat me? I have never fought him before. Although certain that I would win in a fight there was no telling what would happen if we clashed. However, I was certain of one thing: if it came down to a fight then I wanted Dick by my side.

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><p><strong>AN: **Short, yes, but I feel as though it is enough. Review!


	19. Interlude 3: Who benefits?

**Disclaimer: **Nope I still don't own anyone.

**A/N: **Wow! I have a pretty loaded semester with lots of reading! It's been a little hectic for me in this first week back with homework and work stuff, but I was able to use my three-day weekend to take a little breather. Can't give you a definite updating schedule, though. The madness has just begun.

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><p>Interlude 3<p>

Can't be evil. What we should do?

Batman hurt?

The truth.

**-BB- **

It was really different without Robin around.

Ya know, I didn't realize how hard Robin worked to keep us together until he was gone. It was weird. He wasn't there to yell at us or get us up early in the morning to practice. When he wasn't being oh-so-serious he was a cool guy to hang with. Sure, his compulsion to win sometimes drove us nuts, but he was a good guy.

He was.

Cyborg tried to keep up Robin's routine, but it was pretty much an epic fail. Gotta give him credit for trying, though. Cyborg tried to get us up early to workout, but that wasn't going to happen. It just wasn't the same. I don't think it will ever be the same.

The one thing I noticed when I finally dragged myself out of bed one morning was that Batman wasn't there. For the past two weeks he had been hogging the main room, hunched over all of our files and whatever else was in Robin's personal files. However, he wasn't there.

_Would he leave without telling us? _I thought. _If he does find Robin, will he ask us to help him? _

The truth was that I didn't know. None of liked that. If Robin was in trouble then we wanted to help him. If he needed his friends by his side then we would be there. Like Robin, we wanted to prove to the other adult teams that we weren't stupid. By this time the other Titans were already up.

"Did Batman ditch us?" I asked, yawning widely.

"We don't know," Cyborg said, "he was gone when I woke up."

Raven suddenly phased out of the room. The temperature in the room seemed to plummet as she left. Involuntarily, I shivered. Spooky.

"What was that all about?" Cyborg asked.

We didn't have long to wait. A few seconds later Raven phased back into the main room. My eyes widened as I realized that someone else was with her. Cyborg leapt forward to help Batman, who staggered into the room, his hand pressed against his side. Although I couldn't see any blood I could tell that he was really hurt. Ouch, dude. What could hurt Batman?

"What happened?" Cyborg demanded.

"An explosion at the JCPD," Raven said.

"What was he doing at the police department?" Cyborg asked.

"I don't know," Raven replied, "but he's just come round. He was released from the hospital just a few minutes ago. Then he tried to go out in the cape-and-cowl while he was hurt. I stopped him."

To my surprise Batman pulled off his cowl. It took me a few seconds to recognize him.

"Mr. Wayne...?"

Of course I was the first to recognize. I loved watching the tube. Sometimes I watched shows I didn't even like so that I could, which included the news. Who wouldn't recognize America's top billionaire? Well, maybe he wasn't the richest guy in the country, but he was pretty close. I think I subconsciously keep up with celebrity gossip. It was kind of gross. But not really.

"It doesn't matter now." Mr. Wayne ran a hand through his hair.

He looked different in person. Tired. Was this the man Robin knew? The man Robin never talked about? I probably asked the most questions about Gotham's Dark Knight more than anyone else on the team. I used to idolize them, you know. For the first few weeks that I knew Robin I called him "sir." Wow. Sometimes I can't believe that I did that. Silly, huh?

"Robin is my ward, Dick Grayson. Last night Dick managed to get himself arrested," Mr. Wayne said. "The JCPD called me to bail him out. I couldn't come as Batman, obviously."

All at once we blurted out questions. What was Robin doing in jail? What was he arrested for? What had happened? Obviously, Mr. Wayne didn't answer them all at once.

"The jail exploded. Someone got him out." He looked pissed. "I need to look for him."

"You shouldn't move around when you're hurt like that..." Raven said. "Mr. Wayne, you can't push yourself like this."

"I'm Batman. I have to." He moved to the main computer. "But I think I have enough information to figure out what's going on."

So, that's where Robin got it all from. No matter how different Robin said he was from Batman there were similar in a lot of ways.

How did the great detective's mind work? It was eerie to watch him work, yet oddly fascinating. It was different from watching Robin's detective mind work. This right here was the master, the greatest detective in the world. Robin hadn't yet developed his skills to rival that of his mentor.

"Everything is here," Wayne said quietly, "the connections...the connections...where are they...?"

Ya know, Mr. Wayne emitted a kind of aura when he was in detective mode. There was a lot more to Batman than just the big scary bat of the night. Beneath the mask was one of the world's greatest minds. He was scary smart. I would never be that smart. Robin was the brains of the group. I was the good-looking comic relief!

"Do you need help...?" I asked.

"Quiet!" he snapped. "You can help by shutting up."

I cowered slightly, but I stayed. Mr. Wayne closed his eyes and began to think. After a minute he opened his eyes again.

"Slade." Batman pointed to the elusive pictures that hung on Robin's walls. "The HIVE Academy. Why did they attack you?"

"Gizmo said that Slade hired them."

"Slade hired them...but why?" Bruce pulled up the files on the HIVE graduates. "He didn't retaliate when the HIVE failed to complete their mission. Why?"

"Maybe he didn't think that he should waste his time with them," Raven said. "He probably has a reason."

"Of course he did."

You have no idea how much I wanted to chime in. A glare from Raven was enough to keep me quiet.

"Who benefits? That's always the question to ask. The science of deduction isn't enough to solve anything. You have to know the motivations. You have to understand people."

"Then you have Thunder and Lightening..." Mr. Wayne tapped a fuzzy picture of a old man. "Both of whom were motivated by someone else..."

Thunder and Lightening. Robin didn't give us much of an explanation about why he ditched us in the middle of the fight against the fire monster. But at that time it wasn't important. What if the man who fought Robin then was...

"Slade," Mr. Wayne said, "Everything comes back to Slade."

"But there's no real proof that he's behind this-" Cyborg began.

"And therein lies the beauty of his master plan." Mr. Wayne pulled his cowl back over his head. "He's left little to no evidence that he's behind this. It may seem as though your misadventures with Slade are random, but they're not. He has an ultimate goal in mind, and somehow it involves Dick. I don't know how or what, but I will find out."

He turned to leave.

"Do not go."

Starfire's voice called out to the Batman. She hadn't spoken for a long time. I didn't even notice that until now. Why was Star so quiet? She was the one whose emotions blew up. Her powers were fueled by her emotions, after all.

"You are Robin's _knorf'ka? _His guardian? You are not his father?"

"Yes. His parents are dead. I'm supposed to take care of him." Batman glanced to the side. "I'm doing a hell of a bad job, though."

She cared so much for him in ways I couldn't even imagine. How hard must it have been for her to keep quiet? She wasn't Raven. Star couldn't keep her emotions bottled up. Why would she?

"If you are able to find him, perhaps this may assist you."

She held out a small metal ball. Mr. Wayne took it from her and squeezed it gently. A hologram shot out of it. Robin tangled in Red X's net appeared before us.

_"I'm fine. Get X, go!"_

The hologram repeated itself like a broken record.

I laughed nervously. It reminded me of a scene from _Clash of the Planets. _You know, the one where the beautiful dame leaves a distress message for the dashing hero. I can quote the entire scene by heart. But this was serious. Really serious. Contrary to popular belief I can be serious when I want to be or need to be. Here was proof that Robin was sneaking around behind our backs. What idiots we were, to believe a stunt like that.

No one said a word. This was all the confirmation we needed. Robin was Red X. That was it. Boom. Done. Gotta hand it to Robin, though: he really had us fooled.

_But that would explain why he saved me in the subway station, _I thought suddenly. _Why didn't we figure this out before?_

Mr. Wayne stopped the hologram. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, as though trying to recollect himself.

"Why didn't you show us that before, Star?" Cyborg demanded.

"Oh, I know why," Mr. Wayne said quietly. "And everything is clear to me now."

He touched the computer screen and dragged images across the screen. He made a web of pictures and newspaper articles, all of them pointing back to Slade's insignia. Mr. Wayne moved relentlessly.

"I tried to exhaust all other possible options. I didn't want to jump to the worst conclusion." Mr. Wayne pressed his fingers against his brow. "I hope to God this isn't what it looks like."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

The answer didn't come immediately. Mr. Wayne was still thinking, still trying to puzzle out the situation.

"Assuming that Slade has larger ambitions than petty robbery, he needs to get rid of the Titans. You are the biggest threat to him. What better way to do that then get rid of the leader?"

Mr. Wayne pulled up one more picture. It looked like it was taken from a security camera. A young man I didn't recognize at first popped on screen. It took me a second to realize that this was Robin under the mask. He sat at a table, his hands balled into fists as he glared at Mr. Wayne. We stood there, transfixed. Robin hardly ever took off his mask. Which, I mean, almost never.

"Look at the way he's dressed," he said, "that's not him."

I tried to follow Mr. Wayne's analysis. The more I followed it the more I realized how much I didn't know about Robin. Granted, this was the man who raised and trained the kid. But I really thought that, as our friend, he would tell us more about himself. Guess I was wrong.

"So?"

"Someone's been taking care of him." Mr. Wayne frowned. "But not too well. Who knows other than Dick? His jacket has small blood stains, probably from a recent broken nose, judging from the blood splatters. Fading contusions on his face. The skin on his knuckles also look irritated. He's been punching things more than usual."

"Maybe he was kidnapped," Cyborg said. "And he fought back?"

"Ah, here's where it gets tricky. Look at him closely: does he look like someone who's being held captive? He hasn't been starved. He doesn't look fatigued. In fact, it seems as if he's been working out."

"What about his injuries?" Raven asked.

"They're healing well, aren't they?" Mr. Wayne pointed to several small injuries on Robin's body. "His knuckles were wrapped with athletic tape. He has bandages on his face...why?"

"Hm?" I asked, utterly bewildered.

_Dude, _I thought, _isn't it obvious? Someone's been using him as a punching bag. _

"If someone has been holding him captive, then why bother keeping him healthy? Why bother giving him clothes and let him wander around?"

Whoa. I didn't even think of those things. Now that he mentioned them they seemed obvious. Why didn't I notice them? Why didn't Mento ever teach me these things? Sometimes I resented the fact that Mento raised me, but then I remembered that the Doom Patrol was my family. If it came to a Mexican standoff, then I wouldn't betray them. In the end I wouldn't ever regret that they raised me.

Not sure if I could say the same for Robin.

"What makes you so sure that he was held captive?" Cyborg asked. "So what if you don't recognize the clothes? What if he took care of himself?"

"Look at them on him. They're a bit too big, don't you think? Someone got those for him, someone who doesn't know him well." Mr. Wayne's eyes narrowed. "This...is not ok."

It was amazing, really, how much I overlooked detail. Yeah, I can totally kick major bad-guy butt, but dang it I wish I had some detective skills! But that wasn't what bothered me the most. Robin was supposed to be the brains of the group, the guy who always showed up when we needed help. We almost lost him during our fight with the HIVE kids. To think that someone kidnapped our leader...

The expression on Mr. Wayne's face scared the crap out of me. He wasn't the kind of dude I would mess with. If someone like Slade was seriously messing with Robin then he was going to have to answer to Batman. If I could I would feel sorry for Slade. But if he was hurting Robin, then no. No freaking way.

"And you're saying Slade is behind this?" Raven asked.

"He's most likely behind this." Mr. Wayne tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Slade...the name sounds familiar..."

His face suddenly darkened. Had he found the connection? It looked like he did. Whatever it was I knew that he wasn't going to tell us right away. That wasn't how he worked. Even if he didn't say it I wasn't stupid enough to know that he thought of us as kids. As amateurs. In a way we were, but then again most of us have dealt with a lot of stupid crap. We were more prepared than most to protect this city.

"Will you retrieve him?" Star asked.

For a moment Mr. Wayne didn't answer. "I'll try."

Well, _that _didn't sound good. He wasn't trying to kid anyone: he could very well fail. Ya know, the newspapers made the Bat out to be some force of nature, an angel of freaking death to all baddies out there. But he could be hurt. Part of me didn't want to believe that he was a man without super powers. Yet he had been hurt in the bomb blast. All eyes were on him, all of us wishing that we could hear something more uplifting.

Hah. Yeah, right. Everything was just going downhill from here.

"What do you mean 'you'll try?'" Cyborg asked.

"If you want to know who benefits," Mr. Wayne said, pausing a moment before continuing. "Dick does."

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><p><strong>AN: **Also, I'm so sad that the second season of Sherlock is ending! I can't make more BBC Sherlock references lol.


	20. Slipping

**Disclaimer: **I don't own these characters.

**A/N: **Well...I don't understand how I got this done this week, but I'll just go with it. Also, my suggested song choice for reading this chapter is "Blood on my Name" by the Wright Brothers. You can find it on Youtube. I listened to it over and over again while writing this.

* * *

><p>"The mind is its own place and in itself<p>

can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven."

John Milton. _Paradise Lost. _Book 1, lines 254-255

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><p><strong>Chapter 17: Slipping <strong>

**-DG- **

Hypocrite.

That's exactly what I was: a lousy hypocrite.

What could I say to the Titans? Sorry for this? Sorry for that? Sure, let me just hop on board and be your leader again? No. That wasn't fair. Not to them and not to me. I could lie and say that I couldn't live with myself, but somehow you'll always survive. If there was one thing I learned from watching my parents fall to their deaths it was this: no matter how crappy the circumstances may be, no matter how much we want to stop living, somehow we manage to live on.

We endure.

And sometimes that seemed to take more effort than giving up and dying. During the first few weeks of my captivity I tried to keep my emotions to myself. Didn't work. I don't think it can ever work. Working with Batman made me realize that you can't ever keep your emotions to yourself. It'll drive you insane.

But what could I do?

After wiping the blood and dirt from my face I waited in my room. For what, though, I wasn't sure. So I got up and began to walk around the Haunt.

I didn't see anyone as I wandered around the compound. Not even a Sladebot. Funny, how I used to think that a Sladebot's company was preferable to Slade or Wintergreen. However, the fact that Slade didn't try to keep me locked up demonstrated that, perhaps, he was willing to compromise. For whose benefit, though, I hadn't the faintest idea.

_He thinks that I'm valuable as his apprentice, _I thought.

What did he see in me? What was so important that he risked his villainous career to bust me out of jail? Nothing made sense. Or perhaps the puzzle pieces were already laid out before me...and I just had to put them together.

Like a good detective was supposed to do.

Slade wasn't in his office. I had no idea where he was. Kind of surprised that he didn't try to talk to me or anything when we got back. The guy like to butt into my personal life. Knowing that someone was bound to be watching me, I didn't try to hack into the computer. My eyes scanned the walls. There were things here I didn't notice before. Personal items decorated the walls.

Slade was a hunter of sorts. A hunter of people, yeah, but the guy had hobbies. He had a life. A family.

_Is that true? _I asked myself. _Or did he plant those little details to throw me off? _

The mercenary was no detective. Sure, he could damn well come close to being one, but he was a tactician at heart. Bruce could say that Slade was using me to get to him, but we both knew that wasn't true. I pushed those thoughts away and tried to think.

Did Slade entertain guests often? The leather chairs in the room didn't look used. Almost new. I ran my fingers across the desktop. Nice and tidy military man. Nothing was out of place. No dust. No cobwebs. Barely anything on his desk except for his computer and mouse and a desk lamp. How boring. Didn't he say he had a family? Wouldn't he have pictures of them somewhere?

Aside from the wall decorations the office was void of most personal things.

I was no Sherlock Holmes. I couldn't deduce a person's entire life story from the way they were dressed or from the stains on their fingers or the dirt on their shoes. If I could then I wouldn't be here right now. I would, in Starfire's words, already be victorious.

But it doesn't hurt to try.

_Everything that Bruce taught me..._

It was hard to clear my head, what which all of the emotional turmoil going on. As I walked around the room I paid better attention to my surroundings. If Slade was right about anything, it was that I needed to pay better attention. Missed details could destroy me.

I opened the desk drawer. How cliché: a gun was there. For a long moment I stood there, gazing down at it. This was the one of the few things Bruce forbade me to handle: a gun.

I picked it up and weighed it in my hand. It was almost too big for my hand. Made for a man, not a boy. The weight of it felt unnatural in my hand. However, I knew that with time I'd get used to it. My fingers slid into place, my pointer finger resting on the trigger. I lifted it clumsily and aimed it at a camera hiding in a corner of the room. I knew he was watching. Perhaps I'll give him a show.

After all, that's what my parents trained me to do.

"Bang. Bang," I said softly.

You're dead.

Gotham wasn't nice. Slade wasn't nice. Life wasn't fair and nice. What would I do if I met Tony Zucco again? Would I try to finish what I had started a few years ago?

"What are you doing, Dick?"

Somehow I wasn't surprised to find him standing in the doorway.

Something inexplicable came over me. Some survival instinct kicked in, pumped blood through my veins and pounded through my ears until I heard nothing else but my own heart. There is a certain scientific theory that states that only the fittest creatures survive. That they learn how to adapt in hostile surroundings. Me, I've adapted to Slade's treatment of me. Even in the short time I was with him I learned what to say and how to act around him. I had to adjust to keep myself sane.

And I found it hard to go back to the way I was before the apprenticeship.

"I told you that I don't like to leave things unfinished."

Truthfully, he could have knocked the gun out of my hand if he wanted to. Killed me a thousand different ways before I hit the floor. But Slade wouldn't do that. Although a villain he still had a personal code of ethics that I had yet to learn about. As I looked at him, both hands wrapped around the gun, I realized that there were things I hadn't noticed about Slade before. Slade held up a hand.

"Oh, I don't think you want to do that."

Even I wasn't that cool under fire. There was something militaristic about Slade. Having a cool head in the midst of battle wasn't something you could learn. It had to be experienced. Sure, I've fought some of the biggest baddies around, but a military battle was different. At least, that's what I assumed. I cocked the gun.

"What will happen if I shoot you?"

"Will you?"

_What if you do shoot him, Grayson? _I thought. _Everything would be fine. He'd be dead. You wouldn't have to work for him anymore. _

Do it.

Don't do it.

Should I do it?

Neither of us moved. Seconds ticked by. Why didn't he do anything? Why didn't he say anything? My pulse quickened. Sweat trickled down my neck. My stomach twisted uncomfortably. Bile crept into the back of my throat. The hairs on the back of my neck rose. My entire body seemed to realize that something was amiss.

Slade coughed.

My trigger finger twitched involuntarily. Nothing happened. I exhaled a breath I didn't know I was holding. My arms fell to my side as I leaned against the desk behind me. Slade smirked.

"It's empty..."

"Do you think I would leave a loaded gun around for you to find?" He chuckled. "Don't be stupid."

Don't be stupid. Yeah, well, too late for that, I suppose.

"Besides, you're holding it wrong." Slade stepped forward. He snatched the gun out of my hand . "The recoil would have hurt you."

He grabbed my wrist and placed the gun in my hand again. Slade adjusted my hand until I was holding the gun correctly. "Hold it like that."

The gun felt even stranger than it did before. However, I placed the gun carefully on the desktop, treating it as if it was a loaded weapon.

"Where did you train?" I asked.

"Unlike Wayne I didn't have the money for fancy karate lessons. I trained in the US Military."

"That doesn't surprise me. I gathered as much."

"Did you, now? And what else have you deduced about me, little detective?"

Detective first. A mercenary's apprentice last. Dead last. I needed to prove to him that I was a detective. Lately I haven't been acting like one, though. But if I really put my mind to it I could be like him. I wasn't going to let that nickname make me angry. I would embrace it.

"You're a hunter, judging from the trophies on the wall. Africa's your favorite spot to go." I tried to think of something else to say that wouldn't sound stupid. "Did your sons ever go with you?"

"You done showing off?"

"It's what I was trained to do. I don't mind showing off, especially if it pisses you off."

"You have a tendency to do that. Pissing me off won't get you any brownie points. Your puerile insults simply bounce off me."

How irritating.

"I know what you're doing, Slade," I said in a tight voice, "I've always been aware of what you're doing."

"And what am I doing exactly?"

The tension in the air was tangible. An uneasy laugh escaped from my lips as I tried to summon the words necessary for my argument. But even that was hard to do. You gotta admire the poets who can sum up an emotion in three words. Crisp. Clean. Concise. Hard not to ramble. Most of us do, especially when you count all the _uhs _and _hms. _It adds up. Bogs you down. So how could I make myself clear to Slade without sounding like an idiot?

"Pulling me in. Making me believe that you're the good guy...making me feel sorry for you."

"Am I the kind of man who wants pity?"

We had a lot more in common than I wanted to admit. Tragic past. Tragic present. Tragic future? Well, bad things have a way of finding me like metal filings to a magnet. Caped crimefighters don't have a lot of good luck to spare. Villains don't either, I suppose.

"You want something," I replied.

"Don't we all. And what do you want, Dick?"

"To live my life the way I want to."

"Admirable."

"You mocking me?"

"Not at all. It is admirable. Idealistic, perhaps, but who doesn't want that?" Slade smiled. "But it's so very vague."

"Why can't I be your enemy, Slade?"

"Hmm, you sound like the bad guy here. Shouldn't you want to be friends with me?"

"No."

"I don't want to be enemies with you. I've never wanted to be enemies with you."

Villains who got in your head were the worst kind. Yeah, I already mentioned it before, but Slade knew how to get inside your head. And, believe it or not, he was doing rather well.

"You haven't been doing a good job of seducing me to the dark side."

"Oh really? Then why are you talking to me?"

"It's just a game of mental chess."

"Admit it: this is fun."

"Like playing chicken on the train tracks."

"I thought you were an optimist?"

"I have my days off."

A conversation. Dear God...I was bantering with a villain and it was _fun. _What the hell was wrong with me?

_He's human. _

There were things I couldn't afford to forget. A man who thought corporal punishment was suitable for training his student. How could I tell him that this wasn't the Dark Ages...that the ever-looming threat of punishment for any kind of failure repulsed me?

"You have to make a choice," Slade said, "you're still a minor. Legally, you're not allowed to make your own decision."

I didn't want to weep in front of Slade. But God, I wanted to cry. Not very masculine, I know, but I didn't know what else to do. Keeping my emotions bottled up would destroy me. In a way, it already was. Imagining Slade trying to help me cope with my feelings was laughable. Then again, concerning Bruce...

"Are you going to let me leave?" I asked.

"That depends. I could hand you back to Batman, but I don't think you want that."

I should go back to Batman. I should go back to Gotham. Did I want to? I didn't know. God, my friends probably know everything all ready. What would they think of me? Why was it so hard to face your friends rather than your enemies?

"He knows," I said.

"What?"

"Bruce. He knows. Everything."

He was a good enough detective to know that already. I wouldn't expect anything less of Bruce.

Not to say that I didn't still care for Bruce...because I did. After all, he raised me. Your care for people you've loved for a long time can't be shut off like a valve. It's a gradual thing. No matter what would happen I would still have fond memories of growing up in Wayne Manor. Even if I decided to train with Slade nothing could erase the happiness I felt. If, of course, that happiness was genuine.

It had to be. It just had to.

"That's why you ran."

"Yes."

My voice sounded weak and pathetic in the gloom of the main room.

"And you don't know what to do."

"No."

The silly elation I felt from the banter just minutes before died. Depression suddenly overcame me, seeping into every atom like cancer. Somehow Slade sensed my depression.

"I won't bother you today," Slade said, "unless you do want to talk...?"

"There's nothing to talk about."

He shrugged. Not wanting to talk to him anymore, I put his promise to the test and walked away from him.

I wandered to the kitchen. I felt as though I was doing a lot of wandering. Wintergreen looked around as I opened the door. He was in the middle of cooking dinner. Pausing in the act of peeling a carrot, he looked at me, wondering perhaps why I was there in the kitchen. If he asked he wouldn't get an answer. However, he continued to peel carrots without so much as a backward glance.

"What made you come back?" Wintergreen asked causally. "I was under the impression that you don't want to be here."

"I don't."

"But you're here of your own free will."

People are irrational. People do stupid things. I was no exception. Even the most cool-headed person can step back, reflect and go, "why on earth did I do that?" There's such a myriad of decisions and indecisions and little things that influence an action (an action that takes a split second to enact) that I couldn't possibly explain why. At least, not at that moment.

"Is Slade telling the truth?" I asked Wintergreen. "About Addie?"

It took Wintergreen a moment to collect himself. He turned his head ever so slightly and studied me out of the corner of his eye.

"So..." Wintergreen said softly. "He told you about that, then."

"Is she dead?"

"No.

"His son is dead."

No wonder Slade didn't want to talk about it.

Loss is difficult to deal with. How did Slade deal with it? Was he like me? Did he sob over his son's grave? Hard to imagine the cold-hearted villain weeping over his son's death. Then again, Slade didn't seem to be the crying type.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said quietly. "I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't know. Many people don't know."

Not for the first time today, I couldn't find the words to articulate myself. Knowing that Slade lost a son, I began to wonder what that meant for me. Did Slade try to train an apprentice before? Was that former apprentice his son? Did he fail? Was he holding me up to some invisible standard I could never hope to achieve?

_Why me? _I asked myself for the millionth time.

"Can I tell you something?" Wintergreen paused and turned around to face me.

"What?" I asked.

Why did I feel so apprehensive? It was just Wintergreen. He would never hurt me. Well, at least I thought he wouldn't. He was just doing his job, after all.

"Slade is a deeply loyal man. He would never do anything to harm this country. He's done too much for it."

"Then who does he murder?"

"Only those whom he believes should die."

Then again, wasn't that what Batman did? Use his own judgment to decide who goes to jail? Slade was just taking it to a whole new level. Screw the law, he seemed to say, I'm beyond that. I am God incarnate, and I will throw you down into the deepest circle of hell if you do not abide by my rules.

"He'll take any insult you throw at him," Wintergreen said, "but you don't talk about his family. Not if you value your sanity."

"How are you involved in all of this?"

"I'm the only family he really has left."

The only family he has left. Who was Wintergreen, really? He didn't talk as much as Alfred, yet he tried harder than Slade to talk to me. To make me feel as though I mattered.

How did this new information change my perception of Slade? It was certainly not enough of a tear-jerker to make me sympathize with him fully, but it make me sympathize enough. And I knew that he told me his story on purpose...that he wanted me to feel bad for him. I knew, yet I was too much of a good guy _not _to relate to him.

Would Slade think that I was weak?

"Need help?" I asked Wintergreen.

"It's always welcome."

Normal. This was so normal...I couldn't believe it. I used to help Alfred cook, but of course this wasn't the same. As I chopped the veggies I was glad that Wintergreen didn't talk to me. He didn't judge me. He was just there. Not just a bunch of atoms squished together, but someone intelligent who would talk to me if I asked him to.

"That's an inefficient way to chop," he said, "try this."

He took the knife from me and showed me how to hold it properly. Hold it with your dominant hand and use the palm of your other to push it down. It was more efficient. With all of the crap going on in my life I needed something to do. Something normal. Something methodological. Something that didn't require too much thinking.

Just...don't...think...

Don't rationalize.

Rationalization kills common sense, the little angel on your shoulder. Makes you sympathize when you're not supposed to. Remember what I said about adjusting? Boy, I adjusted too much.

Chop. Chop. Chop

Chop away the excess, the bad parts. The rotten parts. Everything except the essentials. Kill a little part of yourself to survive. To succeed. Gut yourself of everything that makes you, you.

Hot tears rolled down my cheeks. Perhaps giving me a knife wasn't the greatest idea, Wintergreen. He grasped my wrist as my hand began to shake.

"Let go," he said quietly.

I did. I blamed the tears on the onions. It had to be the onions.

It just had to be.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **If my writing seems a bit poetic, I apologize lol. My writing tends to conform to whatever writer I'm reading at the moment. And I'm being infused with poetry this semester. What do you think? I'm trying to make my writing more interesting.

And fine.

Since most of the Internet already knows it was my birthday on Friday. I wanted to update on my bday but holy crap I now know what it's like to get drunk. I don't recommend it XD.

So leave a review as a bday present for me.


	21. God is in the Rain

**Disclaimer: **

**A/N: **Thank you for all the birthday wishes, both from Tumblr and FF! I had a lovely birthday weekend. No hangover. :)

I didn't intend to post this chapter so soon, but considering my workload this week I thought it best to update before diving into things. Again, I don't understand how I got this done. Maybe I can update once a week this semester. Who knows?

* * *

><p>"People don't have archenemies."<p>

Sherlock: "What?"

Dr. Watson: "In real life. People don't have archenemies."

Sherlock: "That sounds a bit dull. So what do people have in their real lives?"

Dr. Watson: "Friends, people they like, people they don't like, boyfriends...girlfriends..."

Sherlock: "Like I said: dull."

_Sherlock. _"A Study in Pink"

* * *

><p>Chapter 18: God is in The Rain<p>

**-SW- **

Never once, while I schemed this whole apprenticeship out, did I ever believe that I would have to deal with him like this. Sure, I didn't expect him to believe me so easily, but goading someone into a mental breakdown, especially someone whose trust you are trying to gain, was hard work.

"I think," Wintergreen said, "that if there is a need for an intervention, now would be a good time."

"That's exactly what I was going to do tonight, Will."

True, I said that I would leave him alone for a while, but he needed the attention. He had brooded long enough. It was early evening. Even if he wasn't done brooding his stomach would drive him to the kitchen anyway.

"Where is he?"

"I actually have no idea. I don't think he's left the premises, but I'll check the security cameras—"

"No, that's fine. I'll look for him."

It didn't take long for me to find him. I looked first in the places he was most familiar with: his room, the gym...however, I found him back in the main room. I can still recall the shock of what happened thereafter.

Dick was lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling. Color flushed his pale cheeks. He didn't move as I walked into the room. How odd. Usually he jumped to his feet whenever I walked in. A respect thing. Or a fear thing. I don't know which.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Go away, buttface."

Something clicked. Something about the way he said those words, his posture and his complexion just seemed...wrong. I sniffed the air. Spotted something on the floor next to him. I frowned.

"Dick...are you drunk?"

He gave me the finger. Dick flung an arm over his eyes and groaned.

"Turn off the lights," he said, his words slurring slightly, "they're too loud."

This wasn't funny. Not in the least.

"Sit up."

"No."

"Don't be a child."

"The floor is comfortable."

I pulled him to a sitting position. Sometimes Grant had come home drunk, especially during his college days. I've dealt with worse. Dick would be fine.

"Just drink some water and eat something and you'll be fine in a few hours."

"I need to pee."

As he walked off, his gait uncoordinated, I turned to the kitchen. As though he had heard the commotion, Wintergreen sidled into the room, looking very confused.

"Will."

"What?"

"You didn't let him get into the wine cooler, did you?"

"I...what?"

Both of us stared at each other. Part of me wanted to burst out laughing. Who would have suspected Batman's protegee to do this? Get wasted? Not me, I can tell you.

"I didn't think it was necessary to lock it."

Well, well. Dick was breaking another rule every day. Not that I was proud of this, mind you. He would have to act more professionally in the future if he wanted to work with me.

"Check to make sure he didn't take much," I said, "I'd rather not have him vomiting all over the Haunt."

If there was one thing I had to say about him, it was that Dick was unpredictable. Sure, I could figure him out most of the time, but there were times when he completely lost it. When he did something so strange and out-of-the-blue that I couldn't even _comprehend _him.

However, there was nothing to do except let the alcohol wear off. I wasn't a heavy drinker myself, but I liked a drink now and then. When he came back from the bathroom Dick continued to babble, talking more to me than he ever had before.

"He'll be looking for me," Dick said, "Bruce. The Titans. They probably know who Red X is by now."

"He'll come here," I said. "If we stay here, that is."

Oftentimes I thought about leaving my base in Jump. There were plenty of other places to go, to hide away. Would that make me a coward, if I ran? No, no it wouldn't. There were times to retreat and times to attack. Even though Wayne was injured he would be in a rampage. Both Wayne and Dick were in a volatile emotional state. There was no telling what could happen if they met each other now. But I would make that decision later, when Dick was in a more sober state.

"I don't hate him." His voice, now quiet and controlled, almost suggested that he was sober. "How can I hate him? How can I hate anyone?"

Once before I told him to stop using loaded language like "hate." True hate was dangerous. Sure, I was occasionally hijacked by temporary anger, but did I hate anyone? Did I hate the Jackal for kidnapping Joey? I could have blamed it all on him, but as Addie pointed out I was just as guilty. It had been my responsibility to make sure he stayed safe. I failed. At times I hated myself more than I hated other people.

"What do you mean?"

"Oftentimes I've wondered if I really hate you. Maybe I thought I did. Maybe at one time it was true."

"But...?"

"I can't hate you. I just can't. I want to."

"Why do you want to?"

"Because you're the villain. The bad guy." He rubbed his eyes. "I don't think Batman hates anyone. He just hates injustice."

"And the Joker?"

"He's not consumed by rage. He'll never kill the Joker."

"Would he kill me?"

"Nah. Just put you in a body cast."

"Would you kill me?"

No answer.

"It's either yes or no. Not hard to answer."

Still nothing.

"You know, I don't think Wayne would appro—"

_"Shut up, Slade!" _he shouted suddenly. "Why do you think I'll trust you? Why? Why after everything you've done would you think I would _trust _you? You tricked me, made me believe that I successfully tricked you! If you knew it was me, then why did you let me make an ass of myself?" He stormed around in a parody of a circle, trying to find the words to express himself. He couldn't. So he just let his words roll out of his mouth and hoped that I would understand him. "You lie. You always lie. And you don't care what I think. No, for some reason you think that I'm the perfect person to replace your _dead son. _Yeah, that's it. That's totally it. Woooooooo I figured it out. Best freaking detective ever."

Good God. He wasn't out-of-control yet, but part of me wanted to smack him for mentioning Grant. Without waiting for me to say anything, he continued to rant.

"Was he your first apprentice? Did you _mess up, _Slade? Is that why he died? Why your wife left you?"

Maybe alcohol enhanced the detective process. Or maybe he had this all figured out already and kept it to himself. He might have been too scared before to ask me why Grant died. This though...this was getting vicious.

"Dick..." I said warningly.

Who was I kidding, threatening him wasn't going to work. Alcohol was a confidence-booster. Now that he was going he wasn't going to stop.

"You're just a failure, Slade. A mess-up. You can't do anything right without resorting to violence and manipulation! Because that's what you've done to me: manipulated me. That's the only thing you can do right!

"Then...then you lied to me about Batman. You kept telling me that Bruce didn't care about me, but he came! He was looking for me and you never told me! You're wrong, Slade! He does care. The Titans care. But I can't freaking explain why I'm back here. Everything is your fault! Everything is...everything..."

Silence, interrupted only by the churning gears, filled the room again. We stood just a few feet away from each other, Dick now in a threatening position. No, no fights. It would be unfair. Talk him out of it.

"You finished?"

His arms fell to his sides. Somehow his legs gave way underneath him as he fell to his knees. In that moment I couldn't help but pity him. It's one thing to say that he is pathetic, but quite another to watch him wallow in self-pity.

Maybe he was looking for a way to help him break down. Breakdowns, while not pleasant, were a natural part of life. Even I have had them before. Emotional instability could cause anyone to temporarily shut down. But maybe I was overestimating the effect on him. Maybe he was just pretending to be drunk.

"Crumbs," he muttered, "I'm pathetic."

There, Wilson, you did it: you successfully goaded the kid into a mental breakdown. Are you proud of yourself? Pure depression emanated from him.

Therapists try to get their patients to reach a state of catharsis. To get them to acknowledge all of the bad things that have happened in their past. Had Dick reached that stage yet? How would I know?

"You're not pathetic. Stop telling yourself that." I held out a hand. "Stand up."

When he didn't move I grabbed his arm and pulled him up. Swaying, he clutched my arm for support. All thought of him feigning drunkenness left as I smelled the alcohol on him. Part of me was disgusted to see him like this. He knew better. Then again, my sympathy overwhelmed me.

"You're right, Slade. I do need your help."

Good of him to finally acknowledge it. However, I said nothing. He was still talking.

"You're sane," he said, "undeniably sane...or am I the one who's crazy? But guess what? I feel sorry for you, Slade. My God, I feel sorry for you."

Alcohol has a tendency to release suppressed thoughts. It eradicates the barrier between the mouth and the conscience. If he didn't drink himself silly he would never say these things to me. While I needed him to sympathize with me, I wasn't the one who needed sympathy at the moment.

"I'm not the one you should be sorry for."

"What do you mean?"

"I..." How should I word this? "I'm sorry I pushed you this far, Dick."

"Me? You feel sorry for me?"

He blinked. Confusion spread across his face. I never apologized. At least, not often.

"Alfred wouldn't approve," Dick said, "at times he can be scarier than Bruce, you know..."

Was he going to talk about Batman now? In other circumstances I would have encouraged it but he didn't need a life-changing conversation right now.

"You should drink some water," I said. "Don't worry about Batman right now."

"No..."

"It'll make you feel better. Trust me."

"Ok."

If I were truly a villain, I would try all other means to make Dick see sense. Use force. Blackmail. Drugs. But true villainy requires true skill—persuasion and doubt will do more damage than anything else. Torture can only go so far. It may seem strange to hear this from me, but kindness can go a long way.

There were other ways to show that I was sorry.

We walked down the long hallways, away from the cold, intimidating main room. He couldn't walk straight. After a while I got annoyed and put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"Where are we going?" he mumbled.

I opened a door and led him inside. This was the closest thing to a living room I had. I didn't have a library like Wintergreen, but this was where I retreated when I wasn't working. As I moved across the room Dick sat down on the couch.

"I have to admit that I didn't expect you to get drunk," I said as I looked through the shelves. "But I won't judge you."

Familiar theme music suddenly blasted from the surround-sound speakers, causing Dick to start.

He peered at the television screen. "Is this..._Clash of the Planets?" _

"Indeed it is."

I sat down in another armchair and turned up the volume. Even though he said nothing I could tell that he was having some difficulty watching the screen. Eyes unfocused. Constant fidgeting. I didn't have to be a detective to figure that out.

"Beast Boy loves this show." He yawned. "Bit annoying, sometimes." He looked at me. "Why are we watching this?"

"Do we have to have a reason?"

"I guess...I guess not."

If he knew the real reason he might call me a lonely old man. Maybe I was. At this point it didn't matter anymore. My boys, like so many others, grew up watching _Clash of the Planets. _The show was a cult classic. Everyone liked it. Who didn't like it? Even as a young man Grant still held his affection for the show, up until the day he died.

After Grant's death I almost shut down. True, Grant's death was the tipping point for me. Joey's accident—which wasn't much of an accident—was the first thing that splintered my family. Although Addie gained custody of the kids Grant ran away. Even though he was our son I was much closer to him than Joey. He was practically a carbon copy of me, except that he was a bit more emotionally-charged than I was. I dismissed it as a by-product of youth. It would go away with time, I assumed.

He lived with me for a while. Trained with me in my trade, as some sons do. Exceptionally talented, as a father I am obliged to say. But even without my paternal lenses in the way Grant was still an exceptional young man.

But sometimes exceptional people have a habit of getting themselves killed.

The credits rolled across the screen. I glanced to the side. Dick had fallen asleep. Curled into a loose ball, his head cradled in his folded arms, he looked a lot more peaceful than he had of late. Depending on how much he drank he may or may not have a headache tomorrow morning.

After laying a blanket on top of him, I left the room. He would be out for the rest of the night. There was no point in moving him.

Show him that I was human. Everyone knew _Clash of the Planets. _Despite our obvious differences there were still things that tied us all together. Culture. Society. Maybe it was a stretch, maybe not.

Or maybe we were not so different after all.

-TT-

Rain pattered against the roof when I awoke the next morning.

Unlike some people, I liked the rain. Nice change from the constant sunshine. The first thing I did was make sure that Batman and the Titans were out of commission. Judging from the cameras I put in Titans Tower the explosion at the JCPD _had _hurt Wayne.

_Even with his injuries he'll keep trying to find us, _I thought.

The relentless Knight of Gotham. One day that determination was going to get him killed. Not as if I cared. Perhaps crushing his spirit would be a better way to kill the Batman, though. Gutting the drive to fight justice out of him was a challenge indeed.

As I walked back out to refill my coffee mug I caught sight of Dick slouching to the kitchen.

I knew that walk anywhere: the lovely hangover. Oh, he knew. The boy shuffled his way towards me, his head hung low. He looked a real mess. Hair not combed. Clothes crumpled. Looked like he didn't even bother to change his clothes, so he still reeked of alcohol. Did he remember our conversation from the night before?

"Good morning. You sleep well?"

He grunted.

"I didn't quite hear that."

"Morning."

"You care to explain why you got yourself intoxicated last night?"

"Sorry."

He didn't have an explanation. I expect that he had been sober enough last night to remember everything he told me.

"It's fine. Do you need anything? Do you have a headache?"

"No."

"Did you vomit this morning?"

"I'm fine."

Not very talkative today, was he? Did his pride prevent him from admitting that he felt awful? Wintergreen would let me know if he wasn't feeling well.

"You can't mope around all day."

"I guess not."

"So what do you plan to do now?"

"I dunno. Didn't think that far ahead."

"So make a plan."

"It hurts to think."

Dick didn't know what to do with himself. His friends wouldn't trust him. Wayne wouldn't trust him. And as he told me the night before, I was no better as a mentor.

"That is your fault," I said.

"I know."

We stood there awkwardly. I turned back towards the counter and poured another cup of coffee and handed it to him. After he sipped it he grimaced and shut his eyes tightly.

"Ok, fine. Give me your drugs."

Smirking, I pulled open a drawer and took out a bottle of ibuprofen. He took a couple pills with his coffee.

"Did I do anything stupid?"

"No. You were fine. Just a little talkative."

He drank his coffee to stop from talking. Once he was done he murmured something incoherent and walked away from the kitchen. As I put the mugs away I heard him open the door leading up to the roof. Curious, I followed.

He left the door open. Rain pattered and soaked him as he walked through it. Just a normal winter shower. Typical for a Californian city. He turned his head towards the sky. I stayed behind in the shelter of the doorway. Dark clouds pregnant with rain rolled over Jump City. He stepped tentatively into the rain.

Lifting up his hands, he cupped them to catch rainwater. Once water filled his hands he splashed his face. He scrubbed his face, as though trying to wash out the stink of alcohol. His eyes snapped open. The cold water must have done more to wake him up than the coffee.

"Get inside," I called out.

Dick made no indication that he had heard me. He should have. I was only ten feet away. Instead he moved quickly towards the edge of the roof, almost breaking into a run.

"Hey!"

I wasn't worried so much about him running away, but more about him hurting himself. Suicide was unlikely but still...I didn't want him getting any ideas.

He was perched on the edge of the rooftop, mindless of the rain. The paternal instinct in me screamed at him to get off. Get down, boy, I don't want to wipe your brains from the sidewalk. Instead of trying to pull him away from the edge I stopped. If he really was considering jumping, then I didn't want to do anything to provoke him.

A few seconds later I realized that he wasn't going to jump. He gazed out upon the city through the misty haze as though wondering what it would be like to rule it.

"It's all clear to me now..." he said softly. "Everything..."

"What's clear to you?"

"I know what I need to do. That's all."

Stepping away from the edge of the rooftop, he suddenly smiled to himself. His smile didn't fade as he looked up at me. Startled, I watched him practically skip back inside the Haunt. Although I understood that something had changed, that something was different about him, it was still strange to believe that this was all my doing. Then again, this was what I had been planning to do all along.

There was no turning back for him now.

* * *

><p>"God is in the rain."<p>

-Evie, _V for Vendetta_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I'm sorry for the Sherlock spam! I'm still spazzing out over the Reinchenbach Fall! These past two months have been all about the sleuths and amateur detectives! (Like Tintin! I've always been a fan and I loved the movie!). Hence the references here :D.

There's no stopping me from putting in ALL the Sherlock Holmes references!

Review!


	22. Things Change

**A/N: **Wow, just...holy crap the amount of work that got piled on me this past week was incredible. A short chapter, yes, but this is a very important one.

* * *

><p>Chapter 19: Things Change<p>

**-DG- **

Later on that day my mood improved. The fact that Slade took care of me the night before baffled me. Why wasn't he mad? Bruce would have been mad. Though, Bruce always seems mad. Slade's voice cut through my thoughts.

"Are you still being mysterious, Dick?"

"You'll know. All in good time, Slade."

I wasn't sure how to act around him. Lately I hadn't been complaining as much. I had a plan, a little baby of a plan. Eventually I was going to have to let Slade in on it, but now wasn't the right time.

"I do have one question for you, Slade: why haven't you been trying to 'train' me or whatever?"

"Why? Are you complaining?"

"No. You're not the kind of man who likes to waste time. So why? What are you waiting for?"

"For you to pull yourself together," Slade replied. "Are you done beating yourself up?"

Was that what I was doing? Beating myself up for choosing freedom over imprisonment? For turning my back on Bruce? I don't know.

"I'm fine now."

"Good." He opened up a case and tossed me a gun. "Do you remember how to hold it?"

Out of instinct I caught it.

"No." I held it out, handle first. "Take it back."

"You were so eager to shoot me yesterday." He shook his head. "Besides, that's not a real gun."

"What?"

I began to examine the gun. Now that he mentioned it I could tell that it wasn't real. Maybe I was so paranoid that I couldn't tell when Slade was joking or not.

"It's modified to shoot BB pellets. It'll be a nice prelude to the real thing."

"So it's a BB gun?"

"Didn't you go air-softing or paintballing as a kid? Isn't that what boys do these days to play war?"

"I never played war."

"What kind of childhood did you have?"

"A batty one."

He laughed. Moments like these reminded me that Slade was human. A smirk twisted my face, staying there for a few seconds until I shook my head. I held the gun out for him to take.

"I'm not in the mood to play mind games. Take it back."

"Keep it. You'll need it." He turned around and began walking away. "Learn how to carry around a gun, little detective."

Ok, now the nickname was getting annoying. At least it wasn't as annoying as Slade being cryptic. Scowling, I stuck the gun into the back of my pants. Unorthodox, I know, but for some reason I didn't want to disobey Slade. Even though he was being kind now there was no telling when he would snap. Instead of questioning his orders I turned too and left the room.

Exploring the Haunt was something I hadn't been allowed to do before. As I walked around I noticed another computer. I could use this to communicate with anyone. I could call the Tower and explain everything to them. This whole mess could be cleaned up with one phone call. My fingers hovered over the keyboard as I waited, considering what to do.

No.

Instead of Titans Tower I called someone else. A few seconds later the webcam flickered to life, revealing a very familiar cave.

Like I said before: I still cared about the Titans. But if there was anyone I wanted to call then it would be Alfred. I was too chicken to call Star—really, I was. Right now I didn't want a broken heart. I wanted someone familiar to talk to.

Alfred's back was turned towards the camera, sweeping the dusty floor of the Batcave. He hadn't noticed that someone was calling the Batcave. For a moment I wanted to shut off all communication, but I made myself speak.

"Alfred."

He dropped the boom in complete astonishment. "Dick."

In that moment I wanted to be with him. If there was anyone, _anyone _aside from Bruce or Clark who helped me grow up then Alfred would be it. Always on the periphery, always in the background and never acknowledged. Alfred was the real reason why Bruce succeeded. Alfred was always there to give advice and take care of him.

I had a plan. To make it succeed I needed help. Even though Alfred wasn't going to help me I needed to give him a clue, make sure that he wasn't surprised. I wanted to warn him, somehow, of the horrible thing that was going to happen.

"Are you still in Gotham?"

"Yes, but...Dick, where are you? What's happened?"

My throat tightened. If I couldn't explain this to Bruce...

My God, what possessed me to call him? Of course he was going to tell Bruce everything. Then again, that was what I was hoping for. But Alfred was here, talking to me now. There was no turning back. I wasn't a coward. I couldn't afford to be a coward.

"I need you to do something for me," I said, "I need you to trust me."

Slade was right in more ways than I imagined. I wanted to tell Alfred my plan. I wanted him to know everything because I trusted him so much. Yet, considering everything that I've done, I've given no one good reason to trust me. Hopefully, just maybe, Alfred would still trust me out of the goodness of his heart.

That was all I needed.

"You need to come home."

Home. Where was home for me now? Had Gotham ever been my home? As a child I traveled from place-to-place with the circus. Could I ever settle down in a single place and call it home? Did I feel at home here, in Jump City? I didn't know.

"I can't come back."

"Why?

"Listen to me," I said, "I want to see you again. The only way I can do that is if you just trust me. No matter what happens."

To say that none of this tore my heart apart would be a lie. This was the only way out I could see. The only way to untangle myself from this mess. Cut away my relationships. Not because I want to, but because it was necessary to.

"Dick..."

It hurt. Hearing him say my name like that, like a father watching his son die in front of his eyes, hurt me the most. At times Alfred was more of a father to me than Bruce. I don't think that will ever change.

"There's going to be a murder." For the first time in minutes I forced myself to make eye contact with him. "There's nothing anyone can do to stop it. Not even Bruce."

Stomach churning, I shut off the connection before Alfred could reply. Out of everyone I knew he would be the one most likely to understand everything. Once this was all over...

"Pennyworth, isn't it?"

Slade. Oh, I knew that he heard the whole conversation. There was nothing I could do to stop him from listening in. At least he hadn't butted in on our conversation.

"Leave him alone," I said, "he's done nothing wrong."

"I let you call him, didn't I? No harm done."

No harm done. If I had told Alfred where I was, then Slade would have been pissed. Then again, he hasn't been angry the past few days. Kind of nice, really. Deceptively kind, if there was such a thing. Or maybe his kindness was real. With Slade, I don't think I'd ever really know.

"What did you mean 'there's going to be a murder'? Didn't know you had such bloodthirsty intentions."

A murder. Indeed there will be a murder, a murder unlike anything the world has seen before. A murder that will capture the hearts and minds of superheroes and civilians alike.

Unlike the other heroes, Slade was not a performer. He didn't wear a big target on his chest. He kept quiet, crept in the shadows and avoided the spotlight. Yeah, ok, Batman did the same thing, but he did dress up as a bat.

"You have a contract to complete, don't you?"

"Indeed." He studied me with that eerie eye of his. "Why do you ask?"

"Take me with you."

It was one last test. To see if I really wanted to live the life he offered. Yes, I've seen my parents murdered. Yes, I've seen horrible things, but nearly every time I've done something to try to stop it.

And if I chickened out at the last moment then I had the power to save whomever Slade was trying to kill. True, I still did not have the power to stop him, but it was better than staying here and letting Slade murder him.

"You pulling my leg?"

"What difference does it make?" I asked. "You were going to make me come anyway."

While Slade was good at hiding most things from me, his agenda became clearer the longer I hung around him. Instead of resisting him I was going to turn things around by playing his game. He didn't smile.

"You try to stop me and I will give you hell."

"I won't make any promises."

-TT-

I wasn't dressed as Robin or Red X. Dressed in plain black, I blended in perfectly with the shadows. Despite the rain earlier today the night sky was crisp and clear.

We weren't in Jump City. I don't know where we were. I didn't pay attention. Pathetic, I know. But lately I've been going with the flow of things. Only way to keep myself sane. Slinging a bag off of his shoulder, Slade beckoned me to step forward.

"Set up the tripod."

Bending to my knees, I helped him set it up. He showed me where to put the pieces. Simple enough, I guess. Almost like putting together a model plane.

"Who is he?"

"A minor crimelord."

"Who paid you?"

Smirking, Slade shook his head. "I don't trust you that much."

As he spoke he took out the gun and set it on the tripod. Any smart comment I had at the tip of my tongue vanished as I looked at it.

Oh. That was pretty big.

"Take a look."

Stepping aside, Slade put a hand on my shoulder and nudged me towards the gun. Repulsion hit me like a wall. This was wrong.

I peered into the cross-hairs. A man in his mid-forties lounged in an arm-chair, reading a book. A chill slithered down my back as a thousand different thoughts crossed my mind. Everyone had a story. A life. Every life was valuable in some way. Slade was about to terminate this one.

This...this was scary. All this training, all the lectures and lies and hardships...and the only thing I had to do was pull the trigger. Did anyone really need training for that?

"I'm going to snipe him," Slade said, cutting through my thoughts, "one shot. That's it. Pumping his apartment full of bullets is a waste of time, energy and ammunition. Maximum efficiency. Put your hand on the trigger."

When I didn't move he grabbed my wrist and wrapped my hand around the trigger. Panic kicked in, but I forced myself not to panic. Was he going to make me shoot? My initial panic ebbed away as he backed away.

"I won't make you shoot, if that's what you're wondering."

But what if I did? I tried to shoot him yesterday. If that gun had been loaded...

"I want you to see the other side of things. You are now in a villain's shoes. If you pull that trigger, you will become one."

The hairs on the back of my neck rose. This was so wrong. I let go and backed away quickly, my heart hammering madly. "I can't."

"Good, because you're not ready."

Not ready...

"Stand there," he said, pointing to a space some ten feet away, "and watch."

A certain glow encompassed Slade as he worked. This was something he loved to do. All of the frustration, the anger, all of that disappeared. Gunning down people was what he did best, and he took pride in that. Just as we all take pride in whatever we do best. Morality meant little to Slade. Sure, he had his own standards, his own moral philosophy that he stood by, but he held no qualms about murdering people.

It was like watching Batman work. Like watching him light upon whenever he got in the zone, puzzling out clues and analyzing data. What I felt then was intrusion—as though I shouldn't be there, as though my mere presence would destroy his concentration. Slade shifted his position slightly.

Realization crashed down on me. "Wait!"

Too late.

Glass shattered. A woman screamed. The victim slouched in his chair, the book slipping out of his limp hand. Even in the ordered chaos I could, somehow, appreciate the execution of the murder. Unlike my parents' murder, this was not as messy. A perfect headshot. Dead before he could even blink.

Batman instinct kicked in. I yelled something incomprehensible as I moved to attack. Slade stopped me before I could attack him, pinning my arms to my sides. "Stop yelling."

What bothered me the most? That I _let _him kill the guy? That I stood here like an idiot?

"Let me go—"

"Not until you're sensible."

_"I changed my mind!_" I screamed. _"I can't do this I can't—" _

A hand clamped over my mouth.

"Be quiet," he snapped, "and be a little more professional. Listen to me: there's nothing you can do. He's dead. Accept that."

Accept it.

Accept...

"If you attract the police it won't do you any good. Your fingerprints are all over the gun."

Remembering where I was and what had just happened, I forced myself to calm down. Slade let me go.

"Are you all right?"

"I don't know."

Nausea punched me hard in the stomach. Guilt racked me as I thought about what I should have done...what I should do...

That man deserved it.

He wasn't a loss.

No...

Stop...I can't...but I am...why...?

It happened so fast. Did he even have time to realize that he was dead? That he was dying? The ululating cry of police sirens filled the air.

But he wouldn't bother anyone anymore. Could crime be controlled? What if Red X wasn't a mistake after all?

"We have to go," Slade said. "The police will be here any minute."

Everything was packed up and ready to go. Several implications hit me at once: I already had a police record. Escaping from the police station did nothing to help me. Unless I wanted the justice system to screw me over, then what else was there to do?

"Yes, Sir."

A very wide, rather frightening smile spread across Slade's face. Frightening in the fact that he smiled because he knew I wasn't going back to Gotham. That he had succeeded. Yet when I truly think about things, and all of the suffering and the lies and the deaths, I realized that he succeeded a long time ago. There was no use pretending. Eventually you became the person you pretend to be.

That's not to say that I'm proud of this or happy about this. But I realized that there are many things I don't know about myself. I am capable of so many things. Truthfully, though, that scared me in ways you can't even begin to imagine.

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><p>"If you come inside things will not be the same<br>When you return to the night  
>And if you think you've won<br>You never saw me change  
>The game that we all been playing<p>

I've seen diamonds cut through harder men  
>Than you yourself<br>But if you must pretend  
>You may meet your end."<p>

Chris Cornell, "You Know My Name."

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><p><strong>AN: **

Well. For those who didn't know from the beginning: yes, this was where I was going all along. Keep reading, though! I can't say anymore!

While I love reviews, I do have one request: can you guys stop requesting me to write certain pairings? The fanfiction I post is primarily for me. I just happen to share it on the Internet. I don't cater to specific pairings because 1) I don't want to 2) if I don't like the pairing the writing will end up shitty anyway 3) I hardly ever write romance. Ever. Unless specified, all of my fics are _not _romance-oriented. In fact, only one of my stories (the Wilson Family Oneshots) is dedicated to a specific pairing. That is all I ask. I only say this because people have been using my pairing choices as a source of criticism, which isn't really criticism at all. I don't mean to bash certain pairings. Just to respect what I like to write.

Anyway, review!


	23. A Bargain

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anyone.

**A/N: **

Um...what I've been up to:

1) Schoolwork...blarg. Kind of a terrible week regarding schoolwork. 2) I decided to revise NS because there are too many typos and inconsistencies that are bothering me. The fic is becoming too popular for me to leave those problems there. All content will stay the same. I will probably begin posting the sequel (untitled for now) in May, when I am done with classes. Anyway, onward!

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><p><strong> A Bargain<strong>

** -SW- **

The murder spooked him. Like a shocked soldier coming home from battle, he was silent the whole way back to the Haunt. Part of me thought that he was going to try to sabotage the assassination. His reaction came too late, though. Once we got back inside he stood in the antechamber leading up to the main room. He rocked on his heels, his arms wrapped around his chest.

"How do you get over it?" he asked quietly. "The deaths?"

Once you kill over and over again it becomes almost natural. Like killing an insect. Telling the truth might upset him more, though.

"If you knew the contract would make you upset, then why did you come?"

No answer. He just kept rocking back and forth, wallowing in self-pity. Irrational, irrational. Sometimes you just can't explain why someone acts a certain way at a given moment. I didn't know why Dick wanted to go on the contract. Thought I would have to eventually force him to go, to be honest. But something made him want to go. That was something I could not explain.

"You did tell Pennyworth that there would be a murder—"

"That death wasn't the murder I was talking about."

"Then what were you talking about?"

"My murder."

"Your...ah. I see."

Suddenly everything made sense. How did I miss this? No matter. He was emotionally distraught. Not a good time to enact a foolhardy plan, especially if it will attract the Bat's attention.

"You're in no state to propose an attack," I said, "Calm down. We'll talk about this later."

"No. You listen to me now."

I had things to do. A schedule to keep. However egotistical both of us may be, my priorities were many. Dick wasn't always going to be the center of my attention. Surely he realized that by now. As gently as I could, I seized him by the arms and moved him out of my way. "Believe or not, I have things to do. I have to talk my employer—"

_"Listen to me!" _

Pain numbed the left side of my face. That was no girly slap—that had power behind it. And it hurt. Blinking in shock, I looked down at him. He slapped me. He actually _slapped _me.

Should I hit him back?

"I hope that hurt."

"That was uncalled for."

"No, it wasn't." He looked aggressive, alert, everything I taught him to be. He also looked furious."Go ahead, hit me back. You're good at that."

Rising up to my full height, I towered over him, trying to appear intimidating. Why did he hit me?

"Apologize."

"No."

"Why is that so hard for you?"

"I'm not the one who should apologize."

What the hell...?

"Apologize. _Now." _

"No. I won't apologize to _you._"

"This," I breathed, "is your last warning. Apologize now."

"Not until hell freezes over."

Ungrateful brat! Fuming, I finally slapped him back. Tears watered his eyes as he hunched over, massaging his bruised cheek.

"And here we have the real Slade," he sneered. "I used to think that you were unpredictable, but you're not."

Any sympathy I felt vanished within an instant. The boy successfully goaded me. Easier to relate to someone who doesn't beat you. Get me angry enough, though, and I _would _hit back. Indignation crept on me. Slade Wilson wasn't a man to be easily duped. Dick couldn't play these mind games with me.

"Don't insist on playing this game with me, boy."

"It's not a game. Maybe it is to you, but when you're screwing with someone's life it's _not _a game."

We circled each other warily. Befuddlement clouded my thoughts. After everything I've done for him, he still defied me?

"Don't make me hurt you," I said.

"Therein lies your problem: you hurt _anyone _who comes near you."

"Why so hostile?"

"You just proved to me that you'll still hurt me if I goad you enough. Really, it's less awkward than having heart-to-heart conversations with you."

Forcing myself to get rid of my anger, I tried to think rationally.

"What is this all about?"

"Me working with you." He took out the BB gun I gave him the other day. It was the only weapon he had, but why would he want it now? "I can't forget the way you first treated me. I just _can't. _How can I train under someone who treats me like that?"

My superior reflexes would prevent me being hit, but even so...the threatening gesture was enough. Asking him to lower the weapon wouldn't do anything. Be as non-threatening as possible. Hard to do that when you're a mercenary, though.

"Do explain."

"I will only work with you under certain conditions. If I want out, then I'll leave. I learn what I want to learn. No one-sided beatdowns. No more psychological lectures."

"So you're asking for equality."

"If I have as much potential as you say I do, then I will pose a threat. That's something I'll be glad to live up to."

To be honest, I never thought about that before. Of course I knew that he would have the potential to turn on me, but did I underestimate him? He had been the leader of the Titans for a reason. Despite my mockery of the Dark Knight's training it did shape him into the young man before me. The Bat provided the foundation for the training Dick had yet to receive.

"You can't force me to do anything," Dick said, "Even if I can't beat you now, know that I will nurture that hatred until I _can _beat you. I can wait, Slade, for weeks or months or years." His words, not slurred by anger or alcohol, were perfectly clear. "Don't touch the Titans. If you try to make me hurt them or my other friends, either directly or indirectly, then I'll leave. And I will _destroy _you."

A bargain. Although angry, part of me wanted to smirk. Everything he said made one thing perfectly clear: he wanted me to teach him. Justify it all you want, kid. You're gone. You've been gone for a long, long while.

"Point made." That's it, Wilson. Acknowledge him. That was what he wanted, right? Acknowledgment? Make sure you acknowledge his argument, his grievances.

"I won't swear loyalty to you," he said, "but I will accept your help."

Come on, Dick, use your brain. If you are going to strike a bargain, then you need to make sure that there are no loopholes I could slip through. Time to poke holes in his argument.

"You have nothing against me. If you want me to teach you then you will have to obey me."

"You listen to no one. Why should I?"

"I'm very capable of forcing you to work for me," I said. "Be glad that I'm not anymore."

"But you can. You've tried. Coercion only gets you so far, and you _know _that," Dick said, his words hissing between gritted teeth. "Coercion will only make me sullen. I'll only do things out of _fear, _not loyalty. No matter what you say I know that's what you want_. _"

What I want...

At that moment he was no longer an insecure teenager. Every so often he reminded that he was dangerous. Teaching him to be like me _was_ dangerous. The apprentice will eventually overcome the master. Unless I made sure that he was loyal to me, then he would destroy me. Putting on a guarded expression, I mentally steadied myself before speaking.

"You don't know what I want."

"You're easier to read than you think."

"Oh? I'd love to hear it."

"It's simple," Dick breathed. "Captives adjust. I may not know your plans, but I can read you. I know what gets you mad, I had to learn that to avoid sparking your temper. I know what you've been doing, Slade. From day one you've been manipulating me, making me doubt myself. I've seen it done before. I changed to save myself. I know that. So don't you think for one _second _that I will blindly follow you!"

Those last few words echoed in the main room. Loyalty. That was what I wanted, wasn't it? But blind loyalty, or forced loyalty wasn't loyalty at all. All this talk of making Dick loyal to me, of him being wary of in a god-fearing way, meant nothing. In the end, I wanted him to trust me as an associate, as a son trusts his father. He was right: if I wanted him to work with me then I would have to treat him as an equal. Was that where I went wrong with Grant?

No.

Grant was a qualified mercenary. Was his death a result of poor training? No. He understood the risks. His death was his own fault, no matter how much I wanted to put the blame on myself. Was training him a mistake? No. Would refusing to cooperate with Dick's demands be a mistake?

Yes.

"I was wrong to mistreat you," I said, "Happy, now?"

I held out a hand. Although Dick had no way of knowing whether I would keep my promise, he did hold me captive to one thing: the loyalty I wanted. I couldn't get it if I broke my promise. He lowered his weapon. After a moment, Dick consented to shake hands.

"I believe our partnership will be most advantageous," I said.

"Let's not call it a partnership. Sounds suspicious, doesn't it?"

"Your jokes questioning my sexuality will get old. Besides, you're the one who wore the hotpants."

"And I rocked them like nobody's business." He smirked. "You want me as an apprentice, you'll just have to put up with me."

Sarcasm and puns were never Grant's specialty, and certainly not Joey's. As a leader Dick didn't snark that much. Tried too hard to imitate the Batman. Even if he ever managed to become Batman, he would never be able to be him. That was because he wasn't Batman, just as he wasn't my dead son. He was his own person, and I was just going to have to deal with that. Adjust, just like he said earlier.

"You're acting very strange tonight," I said.

"Nah, you're just getting to know me."

"A few weeks ago you wouldn't have said that. So why the sudden change?"

For weeks I've been working towards this stage, to get him to think like this. Yet now, when I was finally there, I became hesitant. Cautious. Almost uneasy. I didn't expect him to be intensely loyal to me, but loyal enough. It was easy to forget that he was a capable, rational, and _dangerous _young man . A sudden smile crossed his face.

"Think of it this way, Slade," Dick said, "if I'm capable of betraying Batman and my friends, who's to say I won't betray you?"

To my utter amazement, that statement didn't sound childish. At times he acted childish, even when he didn't mean to, but now...

"Later," he said as he walked off, "kiss the Sladebots good night for me, will ya?"

No clever comeback came to me. I was too amazed by his attitude for clever banter. My theory is that he uses humor to help himself cope. As a boy he smiled and cracked horrible puns to contrast himself with Batman, to help himself cope with the death of his parents and of a guardian who neglected him in many ways.

Guilt played a major role. No matter what he said he felt terrible guilt for everything that had happened. That his parents' deaths were his fault because he didn't try to stop Zucco. Every man, woman or child who died because he didn't move fast enough. And now his friends, who were genuine friends despite what I said, believed him to be a villain. This sudden humor worried me a little, but perhaps it was for the best.

Keep cracking jokes, kid. Better that than hang yourself out of guilt.

-TT-

Although I intended to put Dick back on his regular training schedule, I eventually decided against it. His words haunted me. Yes, I could have made him train, but in the end who would benefit? Listen well to cornered men, or else they will do or say something rash. Dick was no exception.

The following day passed without incident. I went about my business, mostly to secure the money for the assassination the night before. Once I came back I found Dick in Wintergreen's office. Of all things, he was reading a book. But something else caught my eye.

For the first time in a month he assumed an identity other than his civilian one. He was dressed in his Red X suit. Neither the Red X mask or the Robin mask was on his face. A single lamp was on as he sat in an overlarge armchair. It was kind of funny, watching a costumed kid do something as normal as read.

_"Huckleberry Finn," _I said, "classic. Not many kids pick that up for fun."

"I said that I don't like to leave things unfinished." Studying the cover, he shrugged. "Never finished this for school. Too many nights patrolling Gotham."

"You'll find that you won't have a lot of free time as a villain."

"I never said that I would become a villain." He glanced to the side. "I don't have the makings of a villain. I don't want money. I don't want power."

"Then what do you want?"

"I want to protect the people I love. If being a hero isn't enough, if adhering to a no-kill policy then maybe it's for the best that I learn how to kill. No one else has died yet, but..." He paused, as though thinking about everyone in his life. "I can't bear to see anyone else die. If I have to kill to save them, then so be it."

Thoughts of my initial plan to extort him rumbled in my mind. If he was willing to go this far, then I made a smart move: threatening his friends may have prematurely unleashed his inner rage. Relationships were his lifeline, the things he cared most for. Destroy that and I would destroy him entirely.

"Strong words."

He shrugged.

He wouldn't kill Batman, just as I would never kill Addie. Even though she was responsible for destroying my eye she had good reason to distrust me. Perhaps I would never be able to persuade him to destroy his friends, but nevertheless this was a radical step forward.

"How do you expect to fool Batman?"

"I have an idea. Out of everyone except Alfred, I know him best." He stared off into space. "It will take some finesse, though. He isn't easily fooled."

Of course Batman wasn't a fool. However, he wasn't finished talking.

"Three people will have to die," he said, holding up three fingers. "Dick Grayson. Robin. Red X."

He put on his domino mask. "You have to unmask me. Show the world that Robin is Red X."

"You don't want to be Red X?"

"Why would I? Everyone knows who I am. I do have a different identity in mind..."

"So you don't want them to know that you're alive? It's not just a public stunt?"

"It's best if they don't know that I'm alive. Let them remember me as I was."

"Are you creating a new identity?"

"Yes." He looked thoughtful. "No capes. Less flashy design. Always been a fan of fingerstripes..."

"How do you intend to die?"

Paused in the act of pulling on his gloves, Dick suddenly frowned. This wasn't a question that a sixteen-year-old should have to ask himself. As for myself, I always assumed that I would die in the field. Maybe that will happen. Maybe it won't.

"Dramatically." Drama king. Really, he was. "I'll tell you on the way there. We shouldn't waste any more time."

"When do you intend to act?"

He pulled on his Red X mask. Something seemed different. Now he was willing to immerse himself in the role—and now the acts were reversed. Instead of pretending to be the villain he was the villain. Dick could lie to himself all he wanted to. Without a license to kill, he would become an outlaw vigilante. If he killed someone police would issue warrants. He would be a villain no matter how he thought of himself. If he didn't know that, then I would have been wrong to pick him as an apprentice.

"Tonight."

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><p>"You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain."<p>

-Harvey Dent, _The Dark Knight _

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><p><strong>AN: **Yes...indeed this is where the fic has been headed from the beginning. Also, the rather dark comment at the end of the first section was supposed to be a vague reference to Doctor Who. Maybe I failed. Oh well.

Feel free to fling your creys at me in your reviews.


	24. Interlude 4: The Fall

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own Teen Titans. But from the way the reboot is going I clearly should.

**A/N: **

Wow. If you some of you guys can't handle no updates for a week and a half I don't know how you will survive when I will be off FF FOR FOUR MONTHS. Again, I beg you to be extremely patient with the updates. I'm struggling to keep up with my homework and other college shenanigans. It's a miracle that I can update as often as I do.

…

Anyway, I need one more beta-reader for the NS sequel. I would prefer to have someone better than me (aka maybe someone who has actually finished their BA in English/finished college?) look over them. I'm trying to up the quality of these fics.

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><p><strong>Interlude 4: The Fall <strong>

**The Dark Knight. A performance for the masses. **

**The mask-within-a-mask. **

**The hero with a thousand faces?**

**Curtains fall.**

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><p><strong>-Bruce Wayne- <strong>

Smoke curled into the night, rising up towards the moon like mist rising over a cold river. Ambulances wailed, their horns fading as they raced towards the smoke. I pressed a finger to the communicator in my ear.

"Alfred," I said, "what's going on?"

"I was about to call you, Sir," Alfred replied, "there's been a break-in at your branch in Jump City."

A break-in? Whirling around, I changed direction and headed straight there. The security in all of my branches were top-notch. Whoever was breaking in knew what they were doing. Given the circumstances, it was highly unlikely that it was also a coincidence.

"The Titans are coming as well," Alfred said. "They're on the other side of the city. They will meet you there."

"Fine."

This was their city, after all. Made sense that they would come to investigate. Maturity wasn't a quality I often attributed to the Titans, but in retrospect they were mature for their age. Each and every one of them had a dark past, a reason to fight for justice. For teenagers who had suffered as much as they had, they handled themselves remarkably well. I will always regret never commending the team. It was one of my greatest failures.

If anyone happened to see me on my way there, they would have no idea that I was hurt. The empath's healing soothed the worst of my wound, but it still slowed me down. Right now I couldn't afford to slow down. I don't think that I ever could.

A young man dressed in a black-and-red suit burst through the ventilation shaft and onto the roof. From the few videos and pictures the Titans showed me, I immediately recognized him as Red X. He clutched something in his hand, a prototype hidden deep within the building. A prototype that only someone with intimate knowledge of Wayne Enterprises could have possibly known about.

"Stop."

The masked figure halted, hesitating. It was unfamiliar to me, the mask. If I didn't already know who was behind it, I don't think I would have ever guessed that it was Dick. The whole persona seemed uncharacteristic of him, but perhaps that was the point. Yet I wanted to believe that it wasn't him, that it was someone else behind the mask.

"Who are you?"

"You already know."

Although the suit changed the voice, there was something about the words that made me think of Dick. Inflexion, tone, words...all of them fit him. It couldn't be anyone else.

"You don't have to do this."

"It's too late for that, Batman."

We stood about ten feet away from each other. Cold metallic light from the Wayne Enterprises sign cast us both in sharp relief. Murmurs from the crowd below were lost in the sudden, howling wind.

"I'd rather not fight the Bat," he said, stepping back slowly.

"Then don't. You know you can't beat me."

It wasn't a challenge. I had no intention to fight him. Why would I want to? He was the closest thing I had to a son. I didn't want to lose him. Not in death. Not figuratively. That jab was uncalled for, though. I regretted it as soon as the words left my mouth.

"Just let me help you. We can figure this out."

To show my good intentions I held out a hand. To be honest, I really didn't know what Dick had been going through this past few weeks. If I knew, I wouldn't have been so angry at him. But how could I have known? If he couldn't trust me, then how could I help him?

Instead of answering or even acknowledging me with a shake of the head, Dick turned and left. My temper got the better of me.

"If you're going to leave at least give that back to me."

Well, that certainly caught his attention. If he was going to act childish then so be it. He was old enough to understand that I wouldn't tolerate it. Dick turned his head slightly, glaring at me over his shoulder.

"Make me."

Something sharp and red flung past me, tearing my cape as I careened out of its way. I felt his weapons fly past me, some nearly close enough to give me a shave. To my absolute bewilderment he rushed at me, clearly intending to attack. Instead of retaliating I merely dodged his blows.

"What's the matter?" Dick spat. _"Fight me!" _

One of his fists collided with my face. I couldn't believe this. It was like fighting a person I had never fought before. How could I have trained him? What changed?

The most obvious change was his reflexes. They were fast before this, but he reacted quicker than I remembered. Almost threw me off. He also had new weapons. Well, new in the sense that I've never seen them in person before. The Titans told me that Red X knew their every weakness, that he had a weapon designed to bring each of them down. Did he have one for me?

"Impressive weapons."

"New suit. New toys."

I wanted to think that Slade had done this to him, but I corrected myself: Dick created the Red X suit before he disappeared. The only two explanations could be that he already turned before he left the Titans or that he was in the process of turning to the other side.

_Ask the question, Bruce. _

Simple: ask him. Ask him whose side he was on now. But was anything simple? I trained him better. Dick didn't do anything if he didn't have a good reason to.

"Drop the bad boy act," I said, "you don't have to do this."

Bad boy act. Hmm. Maybe I shouldn't have used that term. It was hard not to make mad if I didn't know why he was mad at me in the first place.

Pinpointing the power source of his new weapons, I threw a batarang straight at his utility belt. Sparks hissed as Dick yanked his belt off and tossed it away. God knows I didn't want to hurt him. Strip him of his weapons and detain him until his friends got here. That was my plan. I didn't want to try to convince him to come back alone, yet at the same time I didn't want to give the impression that we were ganging up on him. But as I continued to fight him my frustration intensified.

_"What the hell is wrong with you?" _

Snapping back to reality, Dick froze. Despite the mask I knew that he was staring straight at me. What was he thinking?

"I believe he asked you a question. Answer him."

Slade Wilson's reputation preceded him. Even if we've never met I knew most of the big-shot assassins for hire in the country. Deathstroke was one I never had to deal with personally before now. Rumor had it that he was my evil equal. At this moment villains watching on their stolen televisions were probably betting on the outcome.

In two moves Slade had him in a choke hold. A horrible cracking sound alerted me to Dick's now-injured shoulder. Slade was fast. But I could be faster. Just one quick move would get Slade away from him—

"Stop." Slade pressed the gun against Dick's neck. "Let's talk like gentlemen, shall we?"

Despite my instincts, I obeyed. A death threat should never be taken lightly. Not even if I believed that Slade somehow convinced Dick to abandon his friends.

If he had gone bad, as I suspected, then was this all a trick? How could I tell? Slade tore off the Red X mask. Somehow it was different without the mask to obscure his voice, his face. With the mask on there was still that shred of hope that someone else had tricked me.

"Call off the Titans," Slade said.

"But—" Dick interjected.

_"Shut up." _Slade cocked the gun. "Do it, Batman. You're in enough trouble as it is. Call them off."

Would anything stop them from coming, even if I said no? Was I in a position to refuse? Should I refuse?

"Cyborg," I said into my communicator, "I can handle the situation at Wayne Enterprises without your assistance."

"But why-?"

I shut him off. They would come anyway. Kids these days never listen to anyone. Regardless, this was a personal matter. Using Robin to get to me was a common excuse for kidnapping the boy wonder. It wouldn't surprise me if Slade had been hired to kill me. Better make sure that theory was correct, though.

"What do you want?" I growled.

"That's a broad question," Slade replied, "that I unfortunately don't have time to answer in full."

So, his motives were many. Fantastic. Unpredictable psychotic bastards were just what I needed more of in my life.

"Let me go," Dick snapped.

Slade silenced him with a choke. Dick took large, gasping breaths, clearly struggling to breathe. Dangerous thoughts crossed my mind. Some part of me suspected that Dick was in cahoots with Slade, but his motives for doing so was unclear. Brainwashing was not out-of-the-question. I hoped he hadn't been brainwashed.

"Were you the one who bombed the JCPD, Slade?"

"Possibly."

What kind of man was Slade Wilson? Ruthless, given the reports in his file. A military man gone rouge. Had some kind of spat with a terrorist named Jackal. There were bits missing from his file, mostly about his family. He must have made sure those parts stayed hidden. A real enigma.

"Why?"

"If you are the world's greatest detective, then surely you can puzzle out my intentions."

The science of deduction could only go so far. Someone could be paying Slade to mess with me, or mess with Dick. But as my encounters with the Joker proved to me, did villains need a reasonable motive to do what they do? I only assumed that Slade had a motive, a clear reason for messing with Dick's head.

"Look at what's become of your crusade for justice," Slade said, "conscripting child soldiers into your war."

"How dare—"

"Shut up. I have my reasons for messing with the boy, and they are my own."

"Let him go," I growled, "if you want to kill me, then go ahead. Just leave him alone."

"Who says that I don't want to kill him?" He turned and shoved Dick over the edge of the rooftop. "Oops."

Lurching forward, I skidded on my stomach as I reached for him. For a horrible moment I thought I missed, but the sudden, jerking weight of his falling body nearly forced my shoulder out of its socket. His wrist felt small and fragile in my overlarge hand. His right arm hung useless at his side. It wasn't a terrible injury—the shoulder needed to be shoved back into the socket—but it definitely didn't do him any good hanging here useless.

"Bruce..."

Tremors of fear crept into his voice. Wordlessly, he told me not to let go. I could not let him fall. Not like his parents. Using my free hand to balance precarious on the edge of the rooftop, I steadied myself. One wrong move and both of us would fall.

"You're pathetically predictable." Slade cocked his head to the side. "It's a wonder you or the boy haven't been killed yet."

Was this a battle I could win?

My muscles strained painfully as I tried to pull Dick back onto the rooftop. Normally this wasn't a problem. He was just a kid. I should have easily pulled him back up. Was it the stress? The confusion? The eyes of the watching crowd? Slade had his gun trained on me.

"It's either me or the boy, Batman," Slade said. "You can't chose both."

In a split second I acted. I snatched a batarang from my utility belt and threw it at him. Slade's ungodly fast reflexes saved him. Shards of pain stabbed my shoulder as Slade shot me. Hot blood soaked my costume as Slade kicked me and stomped on my wrist.

A terrible scream ripped the air.

Grabbing a fistful of my cape, Slade yanked me back to the rooftop and slammed a fist into my head before I could recover. The gathering crowd below gasped and writhed in terror as Dick slipped from my hand. Time seemed to pass by in agonizing, slow motion. My mind froze, unable to work properly as fear seized me. Without his utility belt, without me, without his friends, he would fall to his death. I couldn't even begin to image his terror as he fell, just as his parents fell so many years ago.

_"ROBIN!" _

In that one, terrifying moment I knew exactly how Dick felt the night he lost his parents. Blackness caressed my vision as I lost consciousness. Fighting the inevitable darkness, I tried to crawl to the edge of the rooftop, a trail of blood following in my wake. A heavy boot slammed me back to the ground. The familiar _click _of a gun sounded close to my ear.

Would Slade kill me?

Despite my injuries, despite the bloody screaming of the crowd, I struggled to free myself. To my surprise Slade stepped away and allowed me to move.

"As much as I would like to kill you I never kill for free." He snorted. "There are plenty of people who will pay to have you murdered. Let's keep in touch, Bats."

Unconsciousness sounded so blissful. For once I had to admit defeat. My shaking hand reached for my communicator. I needed to call the Titans...I needed to talk to them...they needed to help him. If Dick was still alive, if he still thought that I was doing him wrong, then maybe he would listen to them. Alfred's panicked voice faded to a mumble as I rolled over onto my back and stared at the dark sky, the stars washed out by the bright fluorescent light of the sign. The sound of Dick's terrified scream echoed in my mind.

Falling...falling...falling...

Gone.

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><p><strong>AN: **

Again, fling your creys at me ("crey" is tumblr slang for "tears") in a review. Reviews are good.

Also, a reminder: someone asked me about my tumblr. Guest artists are needed to answer the questions in the "askwintergreen" tumblr blog. Even though I made the blog a few months ago we really started rolling on Friday night with hilarious questions and answers. You can all submit posts and artwork to the blog in addition to whatever I decide to post. It will be the closest thing to fanfiction that you will get in-between updates.


	25. I Am Lazarus Raised from the Dead

**Disclaimer:**I don't own anyone.

**A/N:**Despite my terrible week, this chapter was surprisingly easy to write. Still working on improving my prose, so lay your criticism on me if you wish!

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><p><strong>I am Lazarus Raised from the Dead<strong>

Falling...falling...falling...

….

….

….

Something careened into me, knocking out what little air I had in my lungs...

…

…

…

_Crack. _

_ …_

_ …_

_ ..._

Someone...or something...dragged me across pavement. Street lights blurred my vision. Lights of all colors smeared into one another, completely indistinguishable. Everything hurt. Everything...

…

…

…

_Why__did__you__do__this__why...?_

_ …_

_ …_

_ …_

_Am I dead? _

_ …_

_..._

_..._

_ ...someone...please help..._

_ …_

_ …_

_ …_

Someone spoke softly to me. Gradually, the wordless voice became coherent, rising like a musical crescendo.

"That was quite a fall."

Wintergreen. Wintergreen was talking to me. A pillow cushioned my throbbing head. Turning my head to my right, I found that the sleeve of my costume had been cut away. I watched Wintergreen examine my shoulder. Ugly contusions colored my swollen shoulder, which lay beside me at an odd angle.

"Your shoulder's dislocated," Wintergreen said. "I have to put it back into the socket."

"Just do it."

Tremors of pain ran through me as Wintergreen helped me sit up. Before I had time to brace myself he took my shoulder and shoved it back into place. I could feel the bones slide back into place, a very nasty and painful experience I hoped never to go through again.

"Just stay still. I'll get some ice to reduce the swelling."

As Wintergreen left I tried to left my head. An immense headache caused me to lie back down, the world around me tilting sideways. The strong smell of anti-septic made me believe that I was in the infirmary. What had happened? The last thing I remembered was Bruce letting go of me.

_The __Sladebot __was __supposed __to __break __my __fall._

A gunshot. There was a gunshot. That was why Bruce let me go. I remembered falling, remembered being tackled by a Sladebot as the crowd's attention was focused on Batman and Slade. Despite the Sladebot 's intervention I still hit the ground hard, hard enough to knock me out. I lifted my uninjured arm to check the injuries on my face. Something warm and sticky matted the hair on the back of my head. Great.

A door banged open. I craned my neck to see who it who, even though there was no need to. Slade's voice boomed, his voice sounding louder than it should.

"The media's having a field day," Slade said. "I left just before the Titans showed up."

The Titans...Bruce...everything rushed back to me.

Slade's bulky figure blocked out the light. If I didn't know any better, if I didn't recognize his voice, I could almost imagine that it was Bruce standing in front of me, ready to give me a lecture.

_"__You __didn't __have __to __shoot __him!__" _

My voice sounded weak, yet oddly forceful in the small room. Both men turned to look at me, as though surprised to see me there. The mercenary advanced slowly towards me, his voice calmly dangerous.

"Are we having second thoughts?" Slade asked. "It's too late to turn back and you know it."

_He __put __a __loaded __gun __to __your__ neck__, __Grayson.__ You can't trust him. _

Being threatened with a loaded gun was definitely not part of the bargain. Was all of this a mistake? Should I have left with Batman while I had the chance? A choked laugh hurt my chest as I struggled to stifle it. Had the chance, yeah right, who was I kidding? Two chances to go back and I didn't. I ran away.

"You dislocated my shoulder, you son of a b—"

"Language. He knows you betrayed him. I did what I had to do."

One of my demands was that he didn't belittle me, I should have known that he would find some way to do that.

"This wasn't—" I began.

"Right now you can't afford to talk back." He turned to Wintergreen. "Anything else I should be aware of?"

"The Sladebot broke his fall, but he still acquired a couple of broken ribs. He shouldn't exert himself for the next couple of weeks."

"Fine. We're leaving anyway."

"What?"

My shoulder felt as if it were on fire. I barely felt the numbing cold of the bagged ice being pressed against my shoulder. At that moment I just wanted to be left alone. Ignoring the pounding pain in my head and shoulder, I forced myself to sit up. Slade pushed me back down.

"Lie down. You shouldn't move."

"You shot him. I don't care you can't do that to him—"

Instead of trying to argue, Slade beckoned Wintergreen over. "Get the painkillers. He'll want them."

Panic called me to action. At that moment I didn't care how bad the pain was, I didn't want him sticking needles in me.

_"__No!__Don't__you__dare,__Slade__—" _

Too late. He held me down by my bad shoulder, the fresh pain immobilizing me as an unexpected yelp of pain escaped me. The prick of the syringe in my arm barely hurt compared to my aching shoulder and ribs. As Wintergreen sedated me I scowled at Slade, who held me down as if I were a rabid animal.

"You're a real prick."

"Takes one to know one."

"Boys, not now."

A curious numbing sensation spread from my arm to the rest of my body. I couldn't move, which frightened me more than anything else. The pain ebbed away to a dull throb. Everything sounded muffled, as though heard through a pillow. Wintergreen shone a bright light into my eyes.

"Well, he also had a concussion." He tutted. "You shouldn't have pushed him off the roof."

"Last-minute plan."

"Well, he still hit the ground hard. He should stay in bed for a few weeks. Let the swelling go down in his shoulder. Everything else should heal with time."

Without the drugs I would have attacked Slade. Shooting Batman was _not _part of the agreement. No matter what I thought I wasn't a killer. I didn't want Bruce to die. If Bruce died, then I would never be redeemable. Lying immobile, without any way to speak these thoughts out loud, killed me.

"Adrenaline keeps you going. You're a lot worse than you feel." He turned and muttered something to Wintergreen, something that my drug-induced state couldn't comprehend.

Someone tucked a blanket around me. The lights seemed so bright, I couldn't tell who tucked the blanket around me as if I were a child. As the lights dimmed Wintergreen stuck an IV into a vein and set up the drip.

"Try to breathe deeply," Wintergreen said, "it'll help your ribs heal."

"Wh...er..e?" It hurt to talk. "Go...ing?"

"Don't worry about that now."

Wintergreen patted my good shoulder absently, as though trying to tell me that everything was going to be ok.

During the following long, agonizing hours I wished that he had knocked me out. Aside from the dislocated shoulder, everything was my fault. I told Slade to throw me off the building. I knew that I'd better battered up when I hit the ground. Nothing could prevent that. I didn't want to be left alone with my seditious thoughts, yet I had all the time in the world to run words over and over in my aching mind.

Eventually I dozed off into a light sleep filled with darkness.

**-TT- **

When the light came back I felt an engine rumbling beneath me. My injured shoulder was in a sling. A melted pack of ice rested numbly on my shoulder, the cold burning my cheek. Rolling my head to the side, I looked out the window. Raindrops raced across the glass as the rain pattered against the window, distorting the outside world.

I felt ancient. My fingers fumbled to unwrap the ice around my shoulder. Everything still hurt, but I would live.

"Good afternoon."

Slade. Always Slade.

"Afternoon? Did you drug me again?"

"No. You fell asleep in the car."

Silence once more, though this time the silence wasn't awkward. It wasn't pregnant with tension or fear. It was a companionable silence, the kind of silence I never expected to enjoy in the company of Slade Wilson. I let my head rest against the cool window and watched the landscape roll by.

"I never said goodbye to them," I mumbled.

"To whom?"

"My friends."

"They aren't your friends anymore."

When did people stop being your friends? Is there some magical time limit? Hey, you haven't talked to me for a few months, buddy, our friendship has expired.

Later I learned that Tamaranians have a special holiday for celebrating friendships. It's called Blorthog, a traditional festival day to strengthen platonic love between friends. If there is anything I regret, it is the fact that I never stayed with the Titans long enough to celebrate with her. But maybe, just maybe, I would be able to...

_Kiss her goodbye. _

My eyes snapped open again. Starfire and I kissed once before, if you could even call it a kiss. Back then it was nothing more than a tool to learn the English language, at least that was _her _excuse.

_Certainly a better kisser than Poison Ivy. _

Always making jokes, wasn't I? Even when I wasn't cracking jokes with my team I made them up in my head. I couldn't afford to be a joker while evil was afoot. Maybe that's where I went wrong: not being myself when I should have been.

_Then __who __will __be __my __friends?_

I conspired against them and was responsible for getting Bruce shot. There was no turning back now. There was another option open to me: go back to Gotham as Dick Grayson. Now that Robin was dead I didn't have any more responsible to take care of Jump City. I could go back to the circus, where there had always been a home open to me.

_But would I really be happy there? _

No, I couldn't go back. My past would continue to haunt me. The circus, though part of my childhood, wasn't part of my life anymore. Without my parents it just wouldn't be the same. What would they think—no. I pushed them from my mind.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere the Titans won't follow us."

That was what I wanted, right? For my past to go away from me? Distancing myself from my friends would protect them, especially now that they knew I was a criminal.

My thoughts drifted as the gentle sway of the car lulled me back to sleep. Once the car slowed to a halt however many minutes later I woke up again. Darkness surrounded us for a few seconds before a series of lights in the walls flickered on.

"Where are we?"

Slade didn't bother to answer. Sure that the answer would come momentarily, I clumsily unbuckled and opened the car door. A strange musty smell filled the air, the kind of smell of a room one hasn't used in a long while. Looking around, I realized that we were in a garage. Instead of lingering I followed Slade through a door into the main house.

Not too shabby. It could be nicer, but that didn't bother me. Mansions were incredibly lonely, especially as a child I feared that I could get lost in Wayne Manor. Slade's insignia didn't cover the walls. Everything just looked...normal.

"This is cozy. Is this another secret hideout?"

"I have many hideouts."

"Your employers must pay you well," I said. "How much were you paid to take out that crime lord from the other night?"

"A considerable amount." Slade leaned forward, touching his fingertips together. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I was just wondering how much one life is worth to you."

"Believe it or not some lives are worth losing money to save."

Like everything else Slade said, he meant a lot more than what he literally said. His words dripped with deeper meaning, although whether or not that deeper meaning was worth the trouble of knowing was a whole different story.

Lowering myself carefully into an armchair, I considered what to ask next. At that point I don't think he trusted me enough to talk about his past openly, but I needed to know.

"Tell me more about your son," I said. "How did he die?"

No one had to warn me not to ask Slade about this. But if we were going to work together, if I was going to learn from him, then I needed to know as much about him as possible. Forget dark, brooding and mysterious. Like it or not, Slade was dangerous, and I would treat him as such. Having some backstory (while initially I would _not _be interested in) to work with would give me a better sense of how he worked.

"He was like you. My first apprentice, one who completed his training and went out into the world. He was killed on a contract too tough for him to handle. Beaten to death before being blown up."

"Was it a revenge scheme against you?"

"Not that I know of. And if it was, then it worked well."

For the first time I heard the sorrow in his voice, the slight tremor that betrayed emotion normally hidden by his stoic exterior. Nothing would ever excuse his more violent tendencies, but I was more trusting than he was. I wanted to trust him. I wanted to know that, deep down, he wasn't the villain I originally believed him to be.

"I'm sorry."

His face remained impassive. "It was his own fault."

How much effort did it take for him to stay calm?

"Then I can never have a family in this line of business?"

"No. Not if you care for them."

Real family was too precious for the mercenary. Yet who would trust Slade Wilson? His own wife turned on him. The only person he trusted was Wintergreen and myself. But why would he ever decide to trust me? For a long time I had been his enemy and now I was his accomplice.

Without another word about his son, Slade reached into his utility belt and took something out. He handed me a silver "S." Reaching out with my left hand felt unnatural and awkward, but my other arm still hurt badly.

"Wear this."

I turned the insignia over in my hand, unexpected anger bubbling up inside me. "I won't wear your colors or your insignia."

Oh, he didn't like that. I wasn't going to be a sheep. Even Batman never made me wear his symbol, at least he allowed me to choose my name and costume.

"I want people to know that you work for me."

"Correction: I'm learning _from_ you, not working for you."

A snort I never expected to hear from Slade, the world's greatest mercenary, reached my ears. I handed the "S" back to him. He was smart enough not to make a big deal out of it.

"I expect you to be learning something while you recover. We can use this time to disappear from the radar. We need that after our stunt on Wayne Enterprises."

Our stunt. Soon it would be "our heist" and "our kill." Frightening, how fast I was becoming used to the notion that we were accomplices. The evil opposite of Gotham's Dynamic Duo. Well, maybe it wouldn't go that far, but the thought still brought a chill down my back.

"I don't intend to waste my time."

"Good." He eyed me suspiciously. "Would it kill you to call me 'Sir'?"

"Why? You hoping that I call you God?"

"If you insist..."

"Boys," Wintergreen called from the other room. "Your bickering is rather irritating."

Both of us straightened and turned our heads towards Wintergreen's voice. Slade's brow furrowed, as though he just thought of something important.

"You're dismissed for the afternoon," Slade said abruptly. "See you at dinner."

And with that the conversation was over. Hmm. I don't think the tension between Slade and I will ever die down, not even if we acted as if we were pals. No matter how close we got there would always be something separating the two of us, an invisible barrier that would prevent me from getting as close to Slade as I did with Bruce. I stood there awkwardly until Wintergreen poked his head into the room.

"Your room is that way," Wintergreen said, pointing, "second door on your left."

I nodded and left the living room. Considering my injuries, there was nothing I could do but rest.

My bedroom was much bigger than that cupboard I had in the Haunt. The curtains of the window were drawn back, the afternoon light flooding the room. Folded sheets sat on the end of the bed, evidence that Wintergreen expected me to keep my own room clean. The whole room was unsurprisingly Spartan in the sense that only the essentials were there. Bed, nightstand, dresser...but one thing stood out to me.

A copy of _Huckleberry Finn _lay on the nightstand, my bookmark still in place. I couldn't help but laugh, even as every inch of me hurt.

The rain had cleared. Nearly all the dark clouds were gone. Dust danced in the beams of the afternoon sun. It took the life of a prisoner to fully appreciate the little things in life, the beauty of the world around you. Being stuck in a windowless room changed something, made me a little crazy. He was kind enough to give me a room with a view. Somehow that made all the difference in the world.

After closing the shades I went back to bed, intending to nap for a long, long while.

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><p><strong>AN: **Yes, indeed, I did reference Deathstroke's reboot series. I read it in the store and decided to reference some stuff even though I am unhappy with the reboot.

Unfortunately I am not yet on spring break like some of you losers. In fact I should tell you that you probably won't get much fanfiction during my spring break either because I decided to do school-related STUFF. Anyways, review! Reviews make me very happy.


	26. Not in Blood, But In Bond

**Disclaimer:**Nope, still don't own anyone.

**A/N:**So tired...go read!

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><p><strong>Not in Blood, But In Bond<strong>

** -SW- **

The next few days were especially quiet. After the painkillers wore off Dick didn't want to move. I was surprised by the fact that he walked so well the day after the fall, considering his accumulated injuries. It was as though the weight of everything came crashing down onto him, and he couldn't take it anymore. A great sadness replaced his initial anger, though not the kind I've seen him experience before. He was past the point of tears. Succumbing to his inevitable acceptance of his actions took a bit longer than I would have liked, but now there was no way he would turn back.

A few evenings later I found myself back at the apartment, my paperwork laid out on the coffee table and my laptop open. The only "work" I had to do was make sure that our tracks were covered. It was always possible that Batman could track us to Blüdhaven. Erratic _thumps _jolted me out of my rhythm.

Since I know who it was, I felt no need to get up and investigate.

"You feeling better?" I asked, not even looking up.

"Turn on the news."

When I didn't do anything he picked up the remote and did it himself, slumping down on the couch in exhaustion. Did he just roll out of bed? It looked like it. Poor quality, Dick.

"Robin's body was found at the bottom of Wayne Enterprises," the reporter said, "contradictory reports are flooding in—some say he died immediately while other sources claim that he is alive. The Teen Titans and Batman are currently unavailable for comment."

He muted the television.

"Wayne won't believe that you're dead without a body," I said.

"I know." He looked out the window, not bothering to look at me. "Right now it's enough for the public to believe that I'm dead. He'll announce my death officially soon."

"Why would he say you're dead if he knows that you're still alive?"

"Because I'm already dead to him." There was a hint of melancholy in his voice, as though he still regretted his decision to join me. His ensuing words were halting, hesitant."It's pointless trying to trick him. He'll puzzle it out eventually, but he knows that announcing my death is for the best."

"Won't he still try to look for you?"

"I think I've made it clear that I don't want him to be in my life anymore."

How would the Titans interact with him now? Would they arrest him? They would have to. If this betrayal caused them to fall apart, then all the better for me. I pulled open a drawer and took out a bottle of brandy covered with dust, intending to pour two glasses. He didn't object when I handed him a glass. Dick continued to stare off into space.

"Well, we're going to stay off the radar for a while," I said, "Wayne won't think to look here."

In light of everything that had happened, I had nearly forgotten about my own nefarious plans. The computer chips I originally had Red X steal for me still needed to be put into place, but that plan could wait. The Titans would try to find me and blame me for everything that had happened. Well, wait can I say? I did promise myself that the Titans would pay after the HIVE brats failed to take them down.

Dick looked at his glass, as though just realizing what I handed him. After brief consideration he drank it. Call me an enabler, if you will, but dealing with a drunk apprentice is a waste of my time.

"I do have one question for you," Dick said, "that one night I was wasted...I don't remember much...everything was in a haze...but I do remember watching an episode of _Clash of the Planets. _Guess it go beyond the realms of good and evil."

"They're not mine. They belonged to my son."

Joey didn't want them after Grant died. Too many memories for him as well, so I had to take them after the funeral.

"Everything ties back to him. Your son, I mean." Dick sighed. "I'm not him."

"I never said you were."

"It was implied."

Sure, Dick wasn't the smartest kid around, but he had experience. Street smarts. Experience that Grant never had as a sixteen-year-old. Experience that sixteen-year-old, should perhaps, never have. But that didn't matter. Batman dragged the boy into his war against crime, and for better or for worse Dick would forever be involved in it.

Suppressing an uneasy chuckle, I leaned against the edge of the sofa and shook my head. "I'm not trying to make you take his place."

Neither of us said anything for a few minutes. He swirled his drink slowly before taking another finishing his drink quickly, though he wisely did not ask for more.

"It's all right, you know," Dick said, "to talk about him. Sometimes it helps."

Genuine kindness infused his words. Everything about him—from his words to the empathetic expression on his face—told me that he understood. Kindness wasn't something I expected from the Titans' fearless leader; he certainly didn't treat me with kindness when we first met. Yet in these rare moments his kindness shone and made me understand why people cared so much about him. Brat he may be on the outside, but his genuine care for other people made him a valuable companion. It explained why, even when it was clear whose side Dick was on now, the entire cape community kept trying to "rescue" him.

"It was a long time ago," I said, "we move on. That's what they would have wanted us to do."

Dick stared off into space.

Still, the awkward silence existed between us. To fill the void I took out my wallet and thumbed through the pictures. I always kept a picture of Grant in his cadet uniform with me. I don't know why I decided to show Dick pictures, but for some reason I wanted to prove to him that I wasn't lying about Grant.

"This is him."

"Military school?"

"Yes. Surprised?"

"Surprised? Yeah, I guess I am." Dick handed the picture back to me. "He looked like you."

For the first time in years I allowed myself to think about him, my mind wandering to those suppressed memories that still seemed poignant to this day.

_A __bedraggled __Grant __stood __in __front __of __me, __a __worn__ duffel __bag __slung __over __his __shoulder.__The __rain __darkened __his __hair __and __plastered __it __to __his __head.__Almost __at __once I __stepped __aside __to __let __him __in._

_ "Go change. I don't want you dripping water all over the place." I pointed down the hallway. "The bathroom is the first door on your right." _

_ I picked up his bag and tossed it onto the couch. The apartment wasn't big enough for a guest bedroom. Not like I expected my kids to show up anytime soon. Once he changed into dry clothes he walked back into the main room, toweling his hair dry. _

_ "How did you find me? I'm not exactly listed in the phone book." _

_ "Wintergreen told me." _

_ Good old Wintergreen. Unlike me he was allowed to go back to the house because Addie still trusted him. _

_ "Aren't you supposed to be with your mother?" _

_ "Why would I want to be there?" _

_ "I refuse to be tossed between you two," he snapped. "Always going back and forth...drives me nuts..." _

_ "She'll be angry—" _

_ "So what?" Grant snapped. "She's angry all the time. Angry at you, angry at me for acting like you..." _

_ "Don't disrespect your mother." _

_ "I'd rather be with you than hers." _

_ "Even after what happened with Joey?" _

_ Grant said nothing. He loved his brother, I could tell, but he was having a difficult time adjusting to sign language. Even I didn't know it well. _

_ "At least he's not dead." _

_That __was __not __the __answer __I __wanted __to __hear._

_ Would Addie have forgiven me if I told her I was Deathstroke from the beginning?_

_ "It's dangerous to be with me—" _

_ "I know." He gazed at me steadily, his jaw jutting out at a stubborn angle. "Teach me." _

_ Six months had gone by since I last saw him. Seventeen now, and a carbon copy of me. _

_ "No. Go finish school. Enlist as an officer. That's more than I ever did." _

_ Yes, military school was the best for him. I lied about my age and enlisted at sixteen, and even then I didn't know everything. I had to work my way up; with his education Grant would be able to enlist as an officer. _

_ "Why can't I do more than that?" Grant asked. "If the military wasn't enough for you, then how could it be enough for me?" _

_ "There are reasons why I can't go back," I said quietly, "if I could enlist again, then I would." _

_ My words sounded hollow. Yes, I would re-enlist in a heartbeat, but I could be the same man? The same soldier? _

_ "Your mother is just as capable of teaching you," I replied, "she taught me everything." _

_ "Yeah, well, she's too busy coddling Joey. Besides, you know things she doesn't." He stood up. Was he really this tall already? "You have connections." _

_ It was tempting, so _very _tempting to accept this. No matter what Addie thought I wanted to be with the kids, but at the same time I didn't want to defy Addie's wishes. Once Grant turned eighteen he didn't have to adhere to any legal restraints. We could spend more time together. _

_ "I didn't raise you to be an assassin." _

_ "What are you afraid of?" _

_ A lot of things. Losing Joey would have killed me if I hadn't saved him in time. But what if I could train Grant to protect himself? To protect Joey and Addie while I wasn't there? What if...?_

How odd, that I initially refused to teach him, yet years later I sought out another apprentice. Grant's death was so unexpected, so unbearable that I cut myself off even more from Addie and Joey. A parent should never have to outlive his child, yet a child should never have to deal with death of his parents.

Our situations were reversed: I lost my son and he lost his parents. Yet it was this connection of lost loved ones that held us together, all of us. Wintergreen had his own losses to deal with. Separate from the villain community, yet somehow still apart of it, we made a sort of coterie. A cadre of mercenaries who worked for whoever would hire us. I hesitate to label myself as a villain...if a hero required a murder and paid well, then I would do it.

During my reverie Dick found a day-old newspaper, his eyes widening as he held it up to the light.

"We're in Blüdhaven?"

"For now. We'll move back to Jump once the media leaves us alone."

"Well...I guess...I've never been Blüdhaven..." He shook his head. "My parents said this is a bad town."

"The organized crime hardly lives up to its namesake. I'm sure you could do a better job."

"Rule the organized crime?" He raised an eyebrow. "I'm used to eliminating it."

I opened the curtains, revealing the city below us. We were up here in one of the building's nicer apartments, so we had a pretty good view. Though I had no intention of ruling Blüdhaven Dick could very well impose his own standards on it.

"Permanently?"

"We'll see."

A purposefully vague answer. Ah well, it was much better than he what he used to say before. Funny, how things change.

**-TT- **

After a week had passed he was ready to go outside. Entrusting him with Wintergreen for a couple days, I went out and ran a few necessary (yet annoying) out-of-town errands.

I found Dick finishing up the last few pages of _Huckleberry Finn _in the living room, his feet up on the coffee table. He looked much better. He didn't look as sick as before, he was up and about, and...

"You got a haircut."

"I had nothing better to do." He shrugged. "It was bothering me."

Not quite a crew-cut, but a lot shorter than it used to be. Dismissing this, I set a briefcase down on the table and opened it.

"You should grow a beard," I said.

"Don't even go there. Besides," he said, setting his book down, "I can't get past the peach fuzz."

Any further quips he had died as he looked down at the guns. These weren't fake; they were real.

Training him as a mercenary would take a while. The thought of killing people still upset him, even if he didn't say anything, but as time passed he would find it necessary to kill people. This city was known for its cruelty; everyone learned how to cripple and kill by the time they hit their teens, and soon Dick would realize that the world wasn't so nice. He would learn out of necessity and experience, just as I had done.

"Something bothering you?"

"There's always something bothering me." He snorted. "I still can't believe I'm doing this. I always thought that if I agreed to work for you you'd brainwash me or something."

"Do you believe that I have?"

If there was doubt on his mind I needed to know.

Trust was something to be gained. Long afterward he continued to treat me with some distrust, never quite allowing his personality to open up as it should have. There is, I suppose, good reason for him to keep his emotions guarded around me: I had the tendency to play Frankenstein with his emotions, taking them apart and placing them back together in odd ways.

"Maybe I wouldn't be asking that question if you did." He gazed hard at me, his brow furrowed, trying to read me like a telepath. "I don't think so."

Screw around with someone's mind enough and you'll be able to get them to think how you want them to think.

In the end, Dick was right: I had to trust him or else this wouldn't work. Stubborn as I was, perhaps I too had to change. He was kind to me in his own way. It was only fair that I return the favor. Without saying anything I picked up a smaller gun and placed it in his hand. After a long moment he closed his fingers around the hilt, nodding hesitantly.

And so it began.

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><p>"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. For he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be never so vile."<p>

-King Henry V, Act iii, Scene 2

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><p><strong>AN: **And here...we...go...

Review!


	27. I Won't Feel A Thing

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Teen Titans.

**A/N: **Sorry for the late update! Things have been kind of batshit crazy for me lately (this time of spring semester usually is).

I recommend listening to "Everything You Ever" from Dr. Horrible's Sing-a-long Blog's soundtrack.

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><p>"<em>. . . since I cannot prove a lover<em>**  
><strong>_To entertain these fair well-spoken days,_**  
><strong>_I am determined to prove a villain_**  
><strong>_And hate the idle pleasures of these days."_

King Richard III. Act I, scene I.

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><p><strong>I Won't Feel A Thing<strong>

**-DG**-

_Thirteen months later. _

_ Bl__üd__haven. _

_ Now. _

Dogs barked in the distance as I walked along the dark street, the few working streetlights flickering staccato shadows across the grafittied smog hung over the city; not even Red Tornado could have whipped it away.

I climbed to the top of the streetlamp and unscrewed the flickering blub, replacing it with a new one from my pocket. Little things like this help. The street looked less sinister already. Well, in a manner of speaking.

_Has it really been thirteen months? _I wondered. _Seems a lot longer. _

Blüdhaven is much poorer than Gotham; it doesn't have a billionaire superhero to take care of its citizens. The BCPD, from what I can tell, hardly does anything to stop local crime. Making the streets safer for the kids was something I could do.

_No kids, _I remember thinking, _I won't steal from them. I won't try to kill them or their parents, especially if the kids are young. _

Defining the boundaries is important, so when the time came for me to act I wouldn't destroy my remaining morals.

Slade ran me so ragged so that I was too tired to go outside during my free time. People consider me a drifter, a runaway, bound to join one of the local mafia as a drug runner. A few people continually try to recruit me, but I politely declined each time. Someday it's gonna get me in trouble.

Fear of the night life in a sketchy neighborhood was a habit I kicked long ago. At least there weren't any crazy villains here. Most of them drifted towards cities with bigshot superheroes. No one suspected that Robin the Boy Wonder lived among the destitute.

Wandering through the city became a habit of mine. The city park at night was pretty sketchy. Poverty at its finest. There was no doubt in my mind that Slade knew what I was doing. How could he not?

I walked towards a twenty-four-hour diner. A kid was leaning against the wall outside of the diner, his hood up and his eyes gazing towards the ground.

"Hey."

His eyes met mine briefly before returning to the ground. I leaned on the wall next to him, imitating his stance.

"It's cold. Don't you want to go inside?"

"I've been kicked out a couple times."

He fell silent again. Instead of talking to him I took out a twenty-dollar bill from my pocket. I didn't need it.

"Care for a cup of coffee?"

"What?"

"It's cold. I'd like a cup of coffee, wouldn't you?"

I showed him the money. He gazed at it steadily, unsure what to say or do.

"You steal this?"

"Not like I have a job or anything."

Slade told me to steal, so I did. Nothing I decided to steal on my own was worth much—sleeping bags and food and first-aid kits—but it meant more for others than for me. I even gave away the money I pickpocketed from people during the day. Needless to say, Slade didn't like this. My reluctance to steal from the big boys hinders my progress, he says.

"You didn't grow up here, did you? I recognize your accent: Gotham, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

He side-eyed me suspiciously. "Who are you working for?"

"No one of consequence." I handed him the bill. "Just know that you will never have to owe me anything."

Hero, villain, who knew? Villains want something—power or money or fame—but I didn't seek any of that. If the Titans considered me a villain, then I was one in the vaguest sense that I worked for one. But if there was one thing I wouldn't do, it would be to mess with the lives of other kids. No matter what I couldn't allow anyone else to fall into the same situation as I did. Regardless of whether or not I made the right decision no one else should have to do the same.

"Anything else you need?" I asked.

"Nah. Thanks."

Dark, huddled forms of other people sprinkled the lawn. People may think that others don't care, but I do. I care because I know what it's like to live at the bottom. Though I may have a home, it sometimes wasn't a nice place to live.

_How can anyone live like this? _

Living with Bruce in that big old mansion in Gotham made me realize that I'm not truly a hero. Fighting aliens and goo monsters is great, superb really, if one likes the attention. Without the media tracking my every move I felt free, though of course I use that term lightly.

"Dick!" Slade snapped. "What happened? What are you doing?"

Grimacing at the sudden noise, I held my gloved hand up to the earpiece, seriously considering the pros and cons of a simple pager. At least those have mute buttons.

"Chill out. I'm in Thrawn Park."

"Thrawn Park? What the hell are you doing there? You're supposed to be on the other side of town!"

"You're so damn altruistic—"

"That I give you diabetes. Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all."

Altruism isn't bad. The more time I spend with Slade the more I realize how bitter he is. Not just bitter over his son's untimely death, but bitter with the world. Somehow I believed that he could change...maybe. Will did say that Slade's mood improved since we started getting along.

"I'm building up my homeless networks," I said, "unlike you I want to know who's around me."

I needed some sort of support other than Slade and Wintergreen. Can't really go to a meeting of _Sidekicks Anonymous _every Wednesday night at the local Methodist Church. The only reason Slade put up with my wanderings was because he didn't want me to be sullen. Controlling me wasn't going to work. Oh, he tried, but he learned late in the game that allowing me a liberal amount of freedom was the only way I would work for him. Still, even now he liked to lecture me.

"We have work to do."

"You're not much of a people person, are you?" I asked, smirking. "See people like my _charm, _which you, unfortunately, do not have."

"You talk too much."

"Hey, the ladies love the charm, so don't be a grouch."

I didn't know who was worse: Bruce or Slade. The mercenary's chronic grouchiness—no doubt his displeasure at my slow learning pace—made me want to leave even more. My God, Slade could give Batman a run for his money.

"Save your quips for the press. I'm not in the mood to deal with you."

"Fine. I'm going."

I stuffed my jacket into a trash can and made a mental note to myself to pick it up later. Over years I've become pro at slipping in-and-out of my superhero identity. After watching Slade rip me apart I made sure that no one else knew who I was.

The color scheme of my new uniform was red-and-black, just like my Red X costume, but less flashy. More practical too. I wore a black leather jacket with the collars upturned, the bright red stripes running across my chest and arms. The two middle fingers of my gloves also had red stripes. Heh. I won the fingerstripes argument.

Though Dick Grayson is officially dead, I still found it practical to hide my identity in case anyone cared to look into it. A black cowl disguised my face, though unlike Bruce's it showed my hair. Hey, I take care of my hair. It's a freaking masterpiece.

Puffs of mist rose from my mouth into the cold air. Blüdhaven's chilly climate didn't suit me, but it wasn't as if I had anywhere else to go.

"Remember those chips you stole as Red X?"

"How can I not?" I muttered under my breath.

"We'll be using them to break into certain security databases. I'll debrief you once you come back. We'll be working in Gotham, if that still means anything to you."

Gotham...

"No, it's not a problem."

Unless Slade intended to hurt Alfred or any of my other "friends," then it wasn't a problem. But Slade didn't seem to care about my past anymore. All that mattered was the task at hand.

"Good. You need to get the current security passwords from a passing businessman. Right now he's in the nearest hotel. Take a right at the next intersection. He'll have them on a flashdrive. Retrieve them. I'll forward you his name and room number."

I didn't run. Running looks suspicious. In a few minutes I walked inside the lobby, made the necessary small talk with the lady working at the front desk, used my chatty charm on her. No big deal. She wasn't much older than me—maybe twenty or twenty-two—I wasn't sure. Didn't matter though, people assume I'm older anyway.

"I'm looking for Charles Benedict," I said, "care to call him for me?"

"No need," a voice boomed behind me. "I'm right here."

A tough-looking man in his mid-thirties stood behind me. Though dressed in a suit it was clear that he wasn't comfortable. It looked too tight on him, as though it was tailored for a younger man. Benedict's eyes narrowed as they swept over me, taking in my uniform and mask. His hand drifted towards his waist.

"Mr. Benedict," I said, inclining my head a little, "I've been asked to retrieve a certain flash drive. If you would be so kind..." I held out my hand. "My employer isn't known for his patience."

Wasn't going to work, but might as well be nice. Kindness goes a long way. Snorting, Benedict took out his gun and aimed it at me.

"Who do you work for? Who are you?"

"Call me Renegade. My real name won't mean a thing to you. For the time being my employer wishes to remain anonymous." Suddenly I became aware of the weight of my own gun hanging on my waist. "Cooperate, please. I'd rather not clean up the mess."

The girl at the desk stood there terrified, her eyes flicking back and forth between us. Benedict turned his aim to her.

"Get out or I shoot her."

I acted. Whatever athlete he had been in his youth Benedict couldn't keep up with me. I'm faster. I flung an escrima stick across the room and knocked the gun out of his hand. As he slung a fist towards the young woman I ran forward to take the punch.

"Get out of here!" I shouted.

As I turned my head to watch her go Benedict rapped my head with the butt of another gun—where did that come from? My world reeled and spun as I struggled to stay conscious.

"I told you to stop doing that," Slade said, "use your gun."

Watching through the security cameras, just like always. Slade hated it when I decided to save someone. A foot to the rib disorientated me even more. He cornered me, forcing me backwards behind the counter so there was nowhere for me to run. How did I get cornered so fast?

_Slade's gonna lecture me about this for sure, _I thought grimly.

"Masked freak," the man sneered, "We don't need your kind around here."

"Use the gun," Slade said again.

These outings were becoming more...dangerous. Dangerous in the sense that Slade continued to leave me in situations were I was forced to be more aggressive than necessary. However, right now I was just being stupid.

"No."

_"Use the gun," _Slade growled. "Use it or you'll be shot."

"You talking to your boss?" Benedict kicked me again. "Tell him not to send a boy to do a man's work. I'm insulted."

My legs shot out and kicked his legs from underneath him. As he fell to the floor I kneed him in the gut, though he somehow managed to wrap his thick hands around my neck.

"Who are you working for?" Benedict asked, his voice a growl.

"That's not important," I said in a choked voice, "besides, he's kind of a hermit. Honestly, you'll prefer to talk to me than him. I'm the better-looking one anyway."

No one knew that I was working for Slade. There was no need for them to know; I didn't want them to know.

"You talk too much," he snarled, shoving the tip of the gun under my chin, "how about I start by shooting out your tongue?"

_He's going to kill me. _

After trying to wrench his hands away I gave up. Squirming, I tried to get my gun out. Shoot to hurt, not to kill. Black spots splattered my vision as Benedict's hands tightened around my neck. He was going to win by brute force alone. He was going to kill me...

BAM!

Benedict's sudden dead weight nearly knocked the air out of me. For a few seconds I couldn't move, couldn't even _breathe. _A sickly warmth soaked my side, the thick metallic smell of blood worsening my headache.

Somehow his body rolled off of me. The young woman working at the desk gazed uneasily at the gun in my hand, though she held out her hand.

"Thank you."

I barely registered her words. She helped me to my feet and asked me if I needed anything. No...No, I didn't need anything. No, I shouldn't stay while she called the police. No, I wouldn't subject myself to an interrogation.

Was it shock? Pride? Slade didn't even send me on a mission to kill anyone. Though thirteen months have passed I made it clear that I didn't want to kill. Yet now...

"Is he dead?" Slade asked.

My hand shook as I touched my communicator. "Yes."

"Good boy."

"Shut up. I'm not a dog." My voice shook.

With two fingers I closed his eyelids. Everyone deserved some respect. Ignoring the girl's words I retrieved the flash drive from Benedict's wallet, got out of there, breaking into a run.

_I killed a man. _

_ It was self-defense. _

_ I killed a man. _

The Blüdhaven Police Department would show up soon, but they were corrupt. Even if I stayed they wouldn't be able to catch me.

_Slade may not care, but I do. _

"Come back home," Slade said. "Now."

His voice faded as I wrenched the earpieces out and crushed them in my fists. Though I didn't know where I was going, I knew that I wanted to get away from people for a long, long while. Slade would find me. He always did. Every so often I wondered if I made the right decision, but every time I came to the dreary conclusion that there was nothing else for me to do. And now...now...

_I killed a man. _

Benedict's blood was all over my hands and uniform. As I raced to a rooftop my hands slipped on the metal rungs of the ladder, evidence for the police to find later tonight. How unprofessional.

I stopped when I heard something. A shadow—the moon was bright tonight—fell over me. Unable to move—out of fear or anxiety I don't know—I stood mutely on the rooftop, my hands clenched in fists at my sides. Like all those months ago, I didn't know if I wanted to be arrested or not. Certain that the police weren't following me, I shut my eyes tightly and exhaled. Deep breath. Calm down. Focus. Didn't help that I already knew who it was.

Delicate fingers squeezed my shoulders gently, warmth breath tickling my ears. Cautiously, as though handling a live bomb, she turned me around to face her. Her face dominated my vision, and for the first time in months I felt terrified. We were so close. Kissing distance close.

"Starfire."

She lowered herself to the rooftop, though it didn't make much difference. Starfire was always so tall. Her tan, slender fingers caressed my chin and cheeks, touching to make sure that I was real. Despite my desire to hug her, I still had blood on my hands. Goosebumps rose as she found the edge of my cowl. As the mask reached my nose I grabbed her hands.

"Please...don't."

Facing her without my mask is a terrifying thought. Of course she knew my identity by now—Batman must have told her—but still, I would never be the same person. Especially not now.

"I was certain that you were alive," she whispered, "I could not believe the reporters of the television."

An uneasy laugh escaped me. Even after all these months she still couldn't pick up English idioms. All these months away—had I already forgotten how much I love the way she talked? The way she cheered me up, the way she—

My lips somehow found hers. Ignoring the blood on my hands, I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her. Starfire grunted in surprise, pushing me feebly away.

"I...I cannot do this," she stammered. "Please...return to our home."

The temptation was there. Thoughts of a better life—a happy life—flickered through my mind. Everything that had happened was a choice, and if I so desired I could leave Slade and this life behind. Somehow I could find a way to atone for the crimes I've committed.

"I'm sorry. I can't." I held out my arms. "This isn't my blood."

Understanding—horrible, melancholy understanding—darkened her face. As she turned and walked away a thousand different replies formed in my mind. Be a gentleman and escort her home. Be a gentleman and get arrested. How silly of me to think that the streets of Blüdhaven were too dangerous for this Tamaranean powerhouse. The truth was that I wasn't good enough for her. I never would be.

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><p><strong>AN: **I'm aware that there probably are some grammar issues. Help me fix them!

Unfortunately, the story is soon coming to a close. There are a few chapters yet, so hang on tight! Review!


	28. Interlude 5: Misunderstood

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. **

**A/N:**Apologies for the lateness. This past week was super-stressful, and everything that could have possibly gone wrong at work went wrong, so that didn't help. I'm better now, though. Have a short chapter!

**On the fic: **This chapter required a little more effort on my part. I am _painfully _aware of the tense issues I've been having in this fic. I've been experimenting and tried to do something different: everything up until the previous chapter was supposed to be in past tense and then switched to present after the thirteen-month period. The characters are telling the story from this current point in time and have been doing so throughout the story. Now...I think I failed, but it's nothing that revising can't fix. That's just what I was trying to do, if any of you are so inclined to leave a critical review.

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><p><strong> Interlude 5<strong>

**Princess of Tamaran. Deceit. **

**Inviting the _wrekmas._**

**Missing Blorthog.**

**-S- **

I walked because I could not fly. As I walk away I listen intently, hoping that he would follow. Turning my head slightly so that I could see him, I saw Dick still standing there. Frozen, unable to move. If he wanted to follow, then I would allow him to do so.

As soon as I looked around he scurried away like a frightened animal, his gait uneven as he stumbled away. It would be easy to stop him, just a single starbolt. That is all it would take to knock him out, yet I knew that I could not. Infinite sadness rather than righteous anger course through me, neutralizing all of my powers.

Sirens wail and police vehicles surround a nice hotel, making me avoid it. I did not want to think about what had just happened, if Dick was indeed the culprit behind the body being wheeled out under a bloody sheet. After changing into civilian attire in a nearby motel, I walk back towards our temporary headquarters where the others wait for me.

"Well?" the Batman asks as I come in. "Is he here?"

"You are correct," I said, "Dick resides in Blüdhaven. Just as you predicted."

Being the lure is not pleasant. The team asked that I go to Dick, though I would have elected to go on my own without their consent. Out of everyone I was probably his best friend, though I am uncertain if I can continue to call him my friend. Still, deliberately attempting to perplex him is not my specialty.

"Did you talk to him?"

"Yes."

_More __than __just __talk __to __him. _I touch my lips absently. I could still taste him, still smell him. The familiar smell of hair-gel no longer lingers on him. He smelled of blood and sweat and fear, yet I knew that he was still my Dick. He still kisses the same way.

"How is he?"

"It is difficult to say. He did not speak much."

Is Dick the same person he was thirteen months ago? I do not believe that I can know for certain. We may exchange theories of conspiracy, but only Dick could reveal the truth to us. And if he refuses to talk to us then what else could we do?

"Surely he understands..." Raven trails off. "He never meant to hide his death from us."

"No, it was a performance for the crowd." The Batman sighs. "He knew that I'd figure it out."

Although I was not present during Dick's supposed death, I watched the television afterwords. The world believed him dead, and though we later understood that he was alive there was no purpose in revealing the truth to the world. If through some miracle he is returned to us we will not pressure him to return to leadership. The Batman believes that the stress of leadership and other external factors contributed to his defection.

"Then what should we do?" Cyborg asks.

"Shouldn't we find him?" Beast Boy asks. "Why can't we just go in and kick Slade's butt?"

"We don't know what's going on," the Batman replies. "Barging in may just make the situation worse."

The Batman believed that Slade was extorting Dick, compelling him to work for him when he did not wish to. There must be some external influence, he said, something Slade is holding against him. The only unspoken theory of conspiracy was one we did not wish to consider: that Dick defected of his own free will.

It is befuddling, nearly contradictory when one considers Dick's history with Slade. Why, after spending an exorbitant amount of time trying to locate Slade, would he decide to join the very person he swore to fight against?

"There is...one last thing I'm going to try," the Batman said. "If he won't listen to us maybe he'll listen to..."

The Batman trailed off. Negative emotions of failure spread through me, depressing me so much that I should make another pudding of sadness. Of late, I have so depressed that I cannot even bring myself to make the concoction. Besides, my efforts were needed elsewhere.

"Never mind," the Batman said, waving a hand. "It has nothing to do with you."

Explaining the way of my people is not easy. Tamaraneans cannot stop loving. We celebrate friendships and mourn when they begin to drift apart and die. I do not care if he appears to be malevolent; our friendship was not false. Tamaraneans love one another unconditionally. Though my sister has been unkind to me she is still my sibling.

Dick offered no explanation. He did not reject my affection, he only rejected my offer to go back to Jump City with me. Whatever the Batman or the team believes, I do not believe that he is working for Slade on purely selfish terms. I watched him, you see: he still helps others in need. Blüdhaven is his new home, and even in the darkness he attempts to bring light.

_But how to explain the blood? _

Dick made certain not to allow anyone to follow him, but I managed to. I do not know what happened or where the blood originated from, but I did not have to be a detective to understand him. Although I could not find him earlier tonight he must have been attacked and frightened enough to kill someone.

_"This isn't my blood." _

Should I conceal this from my friends? From the Batman? Neglecting to talk about Red X led to this, and no matter how much the others reassured me

"I..." I struggle to locate the correct diction. "He looked frightened."

Indeed, he looked afraid. When I finally located him he was running through the city without any regard for his surroundings. Despite the blood he did not look as if he enjoyed whatever carnage he had just encountered.

"Did he tell you why?"

"There was blood on his uniform."

Splattered all over his hands and uniform, the blood fresh and hot and unbecoming. Flecks of it all over his face. Blood matted his hair and plastered it to his forehead. A warrior race Tamaraneans may be, but we are not so barbaric as to celebrate arbitrary carnage.

"Starfire," the Batman says softly, "he wasn't hurt, was he?"

"No, he was not."

A great, deep silence permeates the air around me. Even after working with the Batman for thirteen months it is difficult to comprehend him. He did not explain his history to us, since that is unimportant to our mission. As soon as I was finished with those words the Batman's usual coldness temporarily broke down. Shock effuses his stony visage, something that I never expected to see on the Batman's face. Moments later his visage returns to its normal, neutral state.

"I see."

The others exchange startled glances.

Some might call him _rutha: _weak, for his decision to defect to the other side rather than face us with the truth about Red X. As part of a warrior race death does not befuddle or bewilder me. When I first arrived as a prisoner I would have killed if it meant that I would be liberated. If Dick felt the same way, then I could not blame him for killing.

I may concur that there is a reasonable explanation for Dick's supposed defection. While I understand that the killing is against everything his _knorf'ka _taught him, my sadness derives primarily from his reluctance to speak with me. Am I not his best friend? What of the time we spent together before? Was that not a tangible, loving relationship? The inflexion of his deepening voice alerted me to the fact that he too struggled with these feelings.

Unloving someone is simply impossible. Perhaps one day I will be able to speak with him. Perhaps one day we will apprehend him, and it has come to my understanding that he will have to stand trial for his actions.

Until he is able to speak with me freely, then I will not give up on him. It is not a simple thing: to give up caring for someone else, even when he does something wrong. Though the others may treat him coldly, we still had to care for him until the danger passed.

"So...what's the plan now?" Beast Boy asks hesitantly.

"He's a criminal now," Raven says quietly, "and just like any other criminal we have to bring him down."

It is one thing to say it, but another to enact it. Cyborg nodded, though he did not look happy about it. Contrary to my optimistic attitude, another part of me cannot comprehend Dick's actions. Did he wish to invite the _wrekma_s_? _Why is he ignoring our friendship?

Simply pondering will not give me answers. Action will lead to answers, if Dick is willing to give them to me.

"We can't barge in just yet," the Batman says, "Starfire, I want you to continue talking to him. We'll try to find out where he's hiding. Lure him out. Then we can arrest both him and Slade."

"That is deceitful."

"He did the same to you. To all of you...to me."

I glance to the side, uncomfortable. I do not want to think about how he deceived all of us. How did we overlook the obvious? That he was Red X?

_He still loves me. He wouldn't lie to me...or so I believed. _

Dick did not lie to me, no...he just neglected to mention that he was working under the cover. He neglected to inform all of us, and that is what led to his downfall.

"What's gonna happen when we arrest Dick?" Cyborg asks.

"Find out what's wrong first. Then...if he really has joined Slade...make sure that he understands that it was wrong. I'm still his guardian. I'm still responsible for him."

None of us dared to speak against this. The Batman's plan is superior to our own, but we are not so unintelligent or immature that we could not console Dick on our own. I turn around and walk away, unsure what to say or do.

As I lay down to sleep I think of a simple plan: I will leave him a _tanabula_ for Blorthog. Perhaps it will lift his spirits and convince him that we truly care for him. But just because he killed another human being does not mean that he still does not care for his friends. Even if everyone else gives up on him I will attempt to speak with him. I will attempt to understand so that he may be able to understand in return.

I will not give up on him.

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><p><strong>AN: **I really enjoyed writing from Star's POV! The malapropisms were fun to squeeze in here.

**Some unnecessary shenanigans: **After this fic is done I'll go on a brief hiatus during April (I promise to finish it!) so that I can edit past fics AND attempt to finish the Blorthog Project.

And because I obviously need MORE things to do, I also want a brief hiatus to do Script-frenzy! I've never done script-frenzy before, but I have story ideas! I'll be (attempting) to write a 100-page graphic novel script.


	29. APRIL FOOLS DAY CHAPTER

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of these characters.

**A/N:**I've been busy, but I have a break coming up! Now that most of my major projects are done I have a little more time to write fanfiction!

**EDIT: GUYS, FOR REFERENCE THIS IS THE APRIL FOOLS DAY CHAPTER. NONE OF THIS IS RELEVANT TO THE ACTUAL PLOTLINE. i'LL KEEP THIS HERE FOR THE LOLZ. **

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><p><strong>Like Father, Like Son<strong>

**-DG- **

_I __killed __a __man._

The words kept tumbling over in my head as I run back home, and no matter what I did or said those words would not go away.

_Home? Yeah, right. I don't have a home. I'm just as homeless as some people on the streets. _

Though we have stayed in Blüdhaven for over a year I could tell that Slade wanted to move. After my adventure tonight we would have to move. A dead body isn't something you can easily ignore. And if Slade had been watching, what was he going to say when I returned? Obviously proud of the kill, but then again I didn't attack Starfire. He would find out about her sooner or later, and I know that he would prefer that I tell him.

_He knows that you like her, _I think, _or that I did. I don't know. _

I slow to a walk. Running would make me look more suspicious, though I hardly suppose that it matters now. The blood wouldn't give me away. Not at all. As I walk I can't help but think of the praise Slade would give me when I returned. The thought churns my stomach.

_He kept trying to make me do it, _I think, _and every time I chickened out. Every time I couldn't do it. _

Learning how to kill was something I swore never to do, yet tonight I did it. Killing was the one thing that separated us, but now...now it wasn't. Now I was just as bad as Slade the mercenary and all of the other assassins out there. No matter how many times I tried to rationalize the kill (self-defense, it was all self-defense) the fact remained and would forever remain thus: I took a life, and I will never be able to bring that back.

_Star is still here. You can still go back. She wanted you to come back. _

I stop walking. It's tempting, very tempting to turn around and find her again. I had no obligation to go back to Slade if I didn't want to. A year ago I made him promise that if I wanted to leave, then he would let me leave. Should I put that to the test?

_Why do you lie to yourself? _A sly voice asks. _Empty promises, that's all they are. He'll never let you leave, especially after you killed a man. _

I gaze around for signs of Sladebots. Sometimes he sent them to pick me up if I was hurt. I wasn't hurt, but after destroying the communicators I wouldn't be surprised if he sent them to go look for me.

Did I want to leave?

_It's not a choice, _I think bitterly, _I can't leave. Slade is the only person who understands me now. Bruce will never forgive me once he finds out about this. _

Not looking forward to facing Slade, I changed my course and headed for the nearest public restroom. Washing away the blood from my face and hands would make me feel marginally better. Despite the grime and the broken stall doors, I walk in anyway and slam my palm down on the rusty tap. As I wash my face and hands in the cold, slightly rusted water I hear something behind me.

_"Freeze!" _

Yet again I whip my gun out again. My hand shakes as I glance around nervously for the source of the noise. My finger twitches as a short, stubby _something _dressed in a Robin costume pops in front of me.

_What __the __hell?_

"A gun!" a squeaky voice exclaims. "Guns are no fun!"

To my complete astonishment the gun suddenly transformed into a water gun. I gaze at it for a few seconds before throwing the useless object away.

"Who are you?" I demand.

"Me? I'm Larry! Your number one fan!"

"My...what?"

"I'm you, from another universe!"

"I'm so confused."

Larry lifts his finger.

"I have a magic finger...it bends the rules of reality! I bend the rules of reality so that I can watch you beat the bad guys!"

"Why are you here, then?"

"You haven't been beating the bad guys, and I don't like that!"

The bad guys? For the past few months I haven't been thinking in terms of "good" and "bad." Batman thought too much like that, and I constantly struggle to move away from that mindset.

"I...I've just been doing what I had to do."

Though I wanted to move away from the little weirdo he kept getting in my way. He put his face uncomfortably close to mine and stuck a finger at my nose.

"No! Robin should be good! I don't like this universe!"

"This...what?"

"This alternate universe! I wanted to see what my hero was up to in other universes, so I came here! But I don't like how things turned out here."

"Alternate universes...I should have guessed." I cock my head to the side. "If I'm in an alternate universe, then what should have happened to me?"

"In another universe the Teen Titans came on time! You didn't work for Slade (not a very nice guy!) but you became Robin again!"

I became Robin again? Would would life be like? What if I had stayed with them? What happens to me in those other universes?

"Why are there different universes?" I ask out loud.

"Oh, new universes are being created all the time, silly!" Larry replies, grinning. "You just happen to be caught in a bad one!"

"Can you tell me why?"

"Yeah! That's why I'm here! To get you out so you can fight the bad guys again!" Larry's smile widens. "I'll take you to the _source _of your problems!"

Without my communicators Slade isn't listening in. Larry lifts his finger and the world around me dissolves. Soon I find myself in a messy dorm room.

A small, petite young woman sits at her desk. Though mounds of books waiting to be read for the ridiculous amount of units she is taking this semester sat beside her she ignores everything in favor of writing on her laptop. She brushes back a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear.

"Who are you?"

She starts in her seat, nearly topping off of the stupid rocking desk-chair that she had fallen off of one too many times. After steadying herself, she gets and looks right up at me. Though much shorter than me, I'm sure that she's a few years older than me.

"How...did you get into the room?" she asks. "You don't even go to this school!"

"He just has a lot of emotions, ok?" Larry exclaims. "And how do you know he doesn't go here?"

"Well, I spent a good ten hours labeling everyone's yearbook picture this week, so I'm pretty sure he doesn't go here." She taps her chin thoughtfully. "You do look familiar, though...who are you?"

"Dick Grayson."

Her dark brown eyes widen in astonishment. Does she know who I am? I begin to tense, but I don't know why. Something just seems out of place.

"And uh...how are you right now, Dick?" she asks, ignoring Larry.

"Not in the best of moods. Kind of feel crappy right now."

"Oh, I know." She puts an arm around my shoulders, which is difficult for her given her shortness. "Let's take a walk, shall we?"

"But I have to—"

"No, come chill with me. I'm much better company than Slade."

"I never mentioned him."

"Oh, well...he took an arrow to the knee. Don't worry about him."

"But—"

"I know you've been under a lot of stress, and I also know why. Let's hop on the shuttle and pig out on ice cream. Or chocolate. Chocolate makes everything better. All on me, I think you've had enough of stealing for one day."

None of this made any sense.

"Listen, Dick," she said, "Batman's never going to give you up, never going to let you down. He's never going to run around and desert you."

For some reason those words inspired me! My horrible mood lifted. Hand-in-hand, we walk down the stairs and out of the dorm into the sunny April afternoon. Larry followed us, flying in jubilant circles over our heads.

"ICE CREAM YAY!" he exclaims. "Let's invite ALL the friends!"

Several portals opened around us. People I didn't know crowded around me, each and every one of them just as confused as I was.

_**AND THEN WE HAD ICE CREAM AND DELICIOUSNESS AND SLADE WASN'T INVITED AND ALL WAS WELL AND RIGHT WITH THE WORLD. **_

**THE ****END**

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><p><strong>AN: **Oh, and before I disappear from the Interwebz: Youtube url: watch?v=oHg5SJYRHA0

**WATER TRIBE OUT, BEYOTCHES.**

**EDIT: GUYS. I FORGOT TO MENTION THIS EARLIER TODAY, BUT APRIL FOOLS!**


	30. Emotionally Compromised

**Disclaimer:**I don't own anything.

**A/N: **

_**TROLLING IN THE DEEP. **_

I'm not sorry about that last chapter AT A**LL. **I was so busy with work and homework and college shenanigans that I didn't have time to write an actual chapter. Yes, it was an April Fool's Day joke. I forgot to say "April Fool's!" at the end of the chapter, but I just assume that you guys are intelligent enough to figure it out. I'm sorry, I was having way too much fun laughing at your reactions. I regret nothing.

So, disregard everything that happened in the last chapter because none of that is relevant.

Also a tumblrian gave me a lovely link to EVERY SINGLE 90'S DEATHSTROKE COMIC ASDFLKJ IF I WASN'T SLEEPING BEFORE I'M NOT SLEEPING NOW.

Anyway, aside from slowly going crazy, I've written this penultimate chapter for you all.

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><p><strong>Emotionally Compromised<strong>

**-SW- **

Just as I was about to send a couple of Sladebots to pick him up Dick staggers into the complex, his front covered completely in blood. Wintergreen reacts before I do.

"Are you hurt?" Wintergreen asks, standing up. "You're covered in blood—"

"I'm fine, Will," Dick said, his voice trembling.

"You don't sound fine."

"Just leave me alone!"

So far Dick has respected Wintergreen, but whenever Dick snaps at Wintergreen I can't help but snap back at Dick.

"You may get away with that disrespectful tone, young man, but don't—"

"Give him some space," Wintergreen whispers. "He just killed a man. He's still processing that."

"I don't tolerate disrespect—"

"As you've made very clear, Sir." Wintergreen lowers his voice. "Don't feel the need to speak on my behalf. He knows when he is annoying me. I'm not an invalid."

Somewhat humbled (and annoyed) by this, I keep my comments to myself. Again, Wintergreen understands Dick better than I do sometimes. But I need to speak with him. I couldn't let this one go.

"Sorry, Will."

"I'm not the one emotionally compromised, Sir."

Completely ignoring our conversation, Dick migrates to the other end of the room. He opens a water bottle and begins to wash his hands vigorously.

Even after thirteen months he still keeps his distance from me. He treats me with a kind of aloofness, as though he believes that distancing himself will keep him sane. His biting, sardonic comments are reminiscent of his now-dead puns, though they are much darker in nature. I tolerate them only because allowing some insubordination keeps him happy. He thinks that he'll be able to get away with his attitude, but there will come a time when I will have to discipline him.

Will advises me to stay aloof, but to make it clear that if Dick needed me I would be there to support him. That was how one works with teenagers, right? Keep your distance until they really need you. Yet after the kill I needed him to make a full report. I knew that Dick killed him—that much was clear—but I didn't know the finer details. It was probably a messy kill, one that I would have to help clean up.

"What happened?" I demand, my voice rising. "You cut off communication!"

He doesn't flinch anymore when I raise my voice. No longer insecure or afraid, he stands up to me. But right now he treats me as if I'm a threat, though I make no move to hurt him. I see it in the way he reacts to my presence; he straightens, watching me warily, perhaps wondering what I'm going to say next.

"You know what happened," he said quietly.

"Those communicators were fine before you destroyed them. Why?"

Instead of answering he moves away. It's been a while since he's acted like this—this is childish. If there's a problem I wanted him to work it out now, rather than let it fester and grow. Before he has time to walk out of the room I grab him by the arm.

"I asked you a question."

As Wintergreen pointed out, instigating a shouting match and a fistfight is childish and solves nothing. That's not to say we haven't avoided those—sometimes it was inevitable even when we both didn't want to fight. Dick glares at me, resentful that I was going to drag this out.

_Oh __God __I __don't __know __what __to __do._

How ridiculous—I've dealt with shell-shocked soldiers plenty of times. What is so different about this?

_Mercenaries __may __come __from __soldiers, __but __he's __not __a __soldier._

He stands still, refusing to speak. I try to remember how I felt after my first battle. Is there anything, any sort of sympathy I could possibly offer him? Once I'm sure he won't run away I let him go.

_It's still not the same. _

What is he thinking? Does he believe that the death was senseless? Or is he shocked that he's capable of such a horrific deed?

_No, he shouldn't be shocked. I've been teaching him how to kill for a long while. Putting those skills to use is an entirely different matter. _

"You didn't mean to kill him, did you?"

"No." His voice is barely a whisper. "I'm not sure why..."

He shudders. My guess is that his training finally kicked in. Though he never used it I made him carry around a gun "just to be safe." Being the clever young man that he is, Dick always found a way around using it. For some reason he felt the need to shoot Benedict tonight. I couldn't possibly begin to understand why he had felt that way, but it was obvious that he regretted it now. Hesitantly, I place my hands on his shaking shoulders.

"It's fine...you're fine."

Coach him through it. Calm him down. Once he calms down he can think rationally, and rationality is key in our dangerous profession.

"Repeat after me: it was self-defense."

"It...it was..."

"Say it slowly."

"It...was self-defense."

"It was self-defense and was justified."

"It was self-defense and I'm justified."

He sounds as if he doesn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. However, repeating the words "self-defense" seems to calm him down. His shoulders sag.

Dick isn't looking for praise, so I wouldn't give it to him. Right now he is still uncomfortable with the idea of killing. Once he refines his technique then the praise would begin again.

"Will you tell me what happened afterwords?"

A curt shake of the head indicates that he'll be unwilling to talk for some time. No matter. So long as he didn't attract unwanted attention from the cape community then it didn't even matter.

"We're leaving tonight. Get cleaned up and ready to go."

No time for recuperation. Cruel, I know, but he understands that we need to move. He's accompanied me on enough contracts to know that. He's learning how to move on, to not let things or people get to his head. Dick nods mutely and leaves quickly.

"I never ordered him to kill Benedict. Initially." Sensing disagreement, I speak quickly and overtake Wintergreen. "Yes, I did say to kill him after it was clear that he wouldn't have gotten out of there alive if he hadn't used the gun. I've ordered him to kill plenty of times, but up until tonight he managed to find ways around that. He always had a choice."

"Did he, now?"

Always criticizing me...though I suppose that Wintergreen is one of the few people who has a right to criticize me. He's one of the few people I'll listen to, anyway.

_Aside from Adeline. _

A little, nagging voice in the back of my mind reminds me that my next child support check is due in a few days. Not that Addie needs it...

I dismiss these dangerous thoughts. Vising Joey was out of the question for me, but perhaps Wintergreen or Dick might be able to send my living son a message. Besides, Joey was Dick's age, wasn't he? He wouldn't have to stick around me anymore, if he didn't want to...

"What's done is done."

As I walk away Wintergreen studies me with a judging look.

**-TT- **

**Gotham City**

We reach Gotham with little fuss. No one mentions Benedict's death, though I'm sure it looms on all our minds. Before leaving I make arrangements to get rid of the body and pay for the young woman's silence. The last thing we need is to make the headlines, though a body discovered in Blüdhaven is nothing new.

As I work with the stolen computer chips Dick stole a year ago my mind lingers on Benedict's death. Though I've been training him to kill for months now it still surprises me that he did it. I suppose that I had gotten used to his refusal to kill, and now...

"I heard you come in, Dick," I say suddenly, turning around in my chair. "What do you want?"

Dick leans against the wall of my office, his arms crossed over his chest. He looks calmer, though I detect hints of exhaustion and depression. He didn't sleep well.

"Nothing much," he says casually, shrugging.

Liar. He wanted to talk to me about killing Benedict. Who else could he talk to? Who else would understand him?

"I know when you're lying."

He hesitates, perhaps reconsidering his words. After a few moments he speaks in a quiet, yet hard voice. "I'm not some machine you can train to do what you like. I didn't turn out quite as you expected, right?"

"No, you didn't."

Well, what did I expect? His loyalty to me is shaky at best, as though there is still some shred of a Titans left inside him.

"What did you expect, then, Slade?"

For some reason I couldn't come up with a coherent answer on the spot. What did I expect? What did I hope to accomplish? I stop working and give my full attention to him.

"I was looking for someone to follow in my footsteps. I thought that you could be my successor."

"I'm not cut out to be like you."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not."

If he's looking for a clear answer, then I can't give it. I'm not even sure what he wishes to talk about. Is he looking for more justification? For me to give him more justification? Well, the fact of the matter was that the decision to kill had been entirely his choice. He was going to have to be at peace with that one way or the other, so I changed the subject.

"Have you been in the city since we got here?"

"No."

"You should go."

As a circus boy he moved around a lot as a child, but Gotham was where he grew up after his parents died. This was his home. I couldn't try to replace the good memories he had here, and I know that it would be useless to try.

"I was going to anyway."

Dick moves to leave.

"Dick."

He pauses. I take out my wallet and give him a twenty-dollar bill. "I'm sure your parents wouldn't want stolen flowers."

Predictable, yes, but I understand his need to visit their graves. Hesitantly, he takes the money from me and tucks it away in an inside coat pocket. It's evident that he doesn't want to take my money, that he doesn't want to rely on my help, but right now he has no one else but me. There was no time for honest work, what with our busy schedule and all.

"You're still a prick."

"You're still a dick."

A ghost of a smile graces his face. "I should be punning, not you."

I can't help but smile.

"Go," I say, "be back before seven."

Every time he walked out of the door there was a chance he wouldn't come back. Tonight he would, though. This city held too many painful memories for him. Even if he said that Gotham wasn't a problem it was. Working for me was a way for him to escape those memories.

"Yeah. Sure."

Control-freak I may be, but allowing him to face people from his past gave him the illusion that he was in control. Made me look like a good guy. I honestly don't care if he thinks I'm a good guy or not. I prefer not think in such black-and-white terms.

What did I want? Even at my age I don't have a clear answer. As the months rolled by I began to believe that this was less about having a lackey do my dirty work. Sure, it's nice having someone other than a Sladebot run errands for me, but if I have one weaknesses, it's sympathy for kids who remind me of my son. Kids like Dick remind me that I'm a terrible father. Perhaps it's too late to make up for Grant , but maybe Dick and I will become better friends. Hard to believe me, I know, but I'm a complicated guy. Terrible father I may be, but that doesn't mean that I don't try.

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><p><strong>AN:**

Oh no, we're nearing the end!

Wow, I have a month of school left! The NS sequel will be posted on May 1, so watch out for that.

Have a very blessed Easter! For those not Christian: have a fantastic weekend!


	31. Solitude

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing.

**A/N:**Here is the final chapter!

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><p>"<strong>There will be time, there will be time<strong>

**to prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; **

**there will be a time to murder and create, **

**and time for all the works and days of your hands**

**that lift and drop a question on your plate; **

**time for you and time for me, **

**and time yet for a hundred indecisions**

**and for a hundred visions and revisions, **

**before the taking of toast and tea." **

**-T.S Eliot "The Love Song of Alfred J. Prufrock"**

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><p><strong>Solitude <strong>

**-DG- **

Although it's been over a year since I've been here, I still know my way around Gotham. As soon as I step out of the building I know exactly where I am. Patrolled this area for years. I pop my collars and avoid eye contact with passerby.

Instead of hailing a taxi I walk all the way to the graveyard. Walking is nice. Losing myself in the rhythm is easy enough to do. Sometimes mindless, repetitive activity is nice after training with Slade.

Within a half hour I make it to the graveyard, a place I haven't visited in over a year. No one recognizes me as I sweep past the graves. Most of them are too wrapped up in their own grief. Rain pelts the gravestones, though I make no move to shield myself from it.

_Everyone seems to be nowadays, _I think, _Bruce with his parents. Me with mine. Slade with his son. _

I hate relying on Slade. Pity is something people assume that I want. People assume that because of my oh-so-tragic backstory that they should pity me. Pity is the last thing that I want. It belittles me, embarrasses me, and even if people don't realize it it makes them seem pretentious. Slade assumes that I want his help. Maybe I need it. Maybe I don't.

_Having second doubts, Grayson? _

Grinding a palm into my forehead, I groan and look towards the gray sky. Gotham had never been a cheerful place. It isn't now. In a way it's paradoxical. I grew up here, and some of my fondest memories lie here. Yet at the same time a dark shadow lies over them, the fact that Gotham is a dark place festering with crime. Some might argue that Batman attracted more crazies, saturating Gotham with even more evil.

_Compared what others have done here I'm nothing. Just an amateur. One kill is nothing compared to the hundreds other villains have killed. _

Water and mud soak the knees of my pants as I kneel on the wet grass. The horrible, silent weight of guilt presses down on me as I think about everything I've done and said over the past year.

"I'm sorry."

I'm not the person they wanted me to be. Who knows what they wanted me to be? Their wills only said so much. As a child I performed alongside them because it was the only thing I knew how to do.

_And now you know how to kill. Well done, Grayson. _

Shame floods through me. I'm sure that they would have wanted me to be happy, to be a good person. Not a murderer. I have other skills. I could do something else with my life.

_It's __not __the __end __of __the __world. __Go __back __to __the __team._

It'd be so easy to go back, yet at the same time difficult. People would recognize me as soon as I walk into Wayne Enterprises.

Resentment clouds my thoughts. Why couldn't the clowns have adopted me, just as they wanted? Why did Bruce have to take me in? None of this would have happened if my parents hadn't died, if Bruce hadn't been so persistent...

_Then again, would that have stopped Slade? _

A twang of uneasiness rings through me. Whose fault was it, really? The choice to join Slade had been mine, yet I understand that he manipulated me. I understand how he tricked me. How much of my thoughts are my own I can't say.

_You __can __still __walk __out, __Grayson._

Easier said than done. Like I said before, I understand how Slade plays the game. It's strange to think that I was aware of his manipulation the whole time, but I still played along. I still fell for it. Walking away from Slade would be just as hard—perhaps even harder—than walking away from Bruce had been.

_The option to leave was always there. _

Was it, really? Or did Slade create the illusion of free will? There's no telling how much damage he did to me.

_But in the end you chose to stay. _

I did, didn't I? Blaming Slade could only go so far. A glance at my watch tells me that it's time to go. Lost in my thoughts, I wander downtown. Weave in and out of the growing afternoon crowd. Avoid looking at anyone. Keeping a low profile is pretty much second nature to me. As I lift my head to scan the crowd a familiar face arrests me.

"Alfred?"

Time slows. Surreal, as if I'm walking through a dream. Alfred's mouth drops open in astonishment. "Dick..." Alfred drops his packages and comes towards me, holding out his arms. "It's good to see you."

Before I can move away he pulls me into a hug. It's been a long time since I've been hugged. For a few long moments we stand there awkwardly in the middle of the sidewalk. Alfred hugs me tightly, afraid to let go. Afraid to lose me again. Without hesitation I hug him back.

Are those tears in his eyes?

"Here, let me help you," I say, bending down to pick up the dropped packages.

"They're nothing important. Don't bother—"

They are already in my arms. As I stand there I realize that I've grown. I'm no longer looking up at Alfred. We are nearly the same height. Alfred takes a step back and looks me over, noticing my height. He brushes dust off of my jacket and fixes the collar.

"Don't look like a slob. I thought I taught you better."

"You taught me fine."

_Heh. No one can top Alfred's cooking. Not even Wintergreen. _

A small smile plays on my lips as I think this. Similar Alfred and Wintergreen may be, but Alfred is more of my friend than Will. Alfred moves to take the packages from me, but I hug them closer to my chest.

"It's fine. I can carry them for you. Let's walk."

Still carrying his things, I walk alongside Alfred. He acts as though nothing has happened, as though I'm still with my friends and the team. We walk in companionable silence, simply enjoying each other's company. After a few minutes Alfred speaks.

"Master Bruce is still in Blüdhaven."

"Oh."

So, Bruce had no idea that I was here. Unless Alfred already tipped him off, then Bruce is still wandering like a lost hound. Suddenly frightened, I move away from Alfred. I'm not certain why I feel afraid—I just am.

"I haven't told him where you are," Alfred said, "please don't go away."

It's hard to disobey Alfred. Not in the way it's difficult to disobey Bruce or Slade, no, it's difficult to disobey Alfred because he was more of a father to me than Bruce. Alfred was always the one who cared, the one who made a huge impact on my life after my parents died. He was always the one who comforted me when I felt down, treated my wounds when I stumbled into the Bat Cave. Always there for me in Gotham, even when no one else was. Yes, I understand why Bruce left me alone, but it still made me angry.

_You can't be angry with Alfred, though. _

"Can you at least stay for a little while?"

You can't say no to Alfred. I couldn't say no. After giving him a near heart-attack with that stunt on Wayne Enterprises a year ago I should talk to him.

"Sure."

He leads me to a tea shop. Last place Slade would expect me to be, I'm sure. After ordering our drinks we sit down at an empty table. We speak hesitantly about the weather, searching for a safe topic. Finding none, Alfred ventures into more dangerous territory.

"Are you still working for him?"

"In a matter of speaking."

Avoiding clear-cut answers is my specialty. Besides, I couldn't lie to Alfred. It's hard to lie to him. In a way, I sometimes felt worse when I disappointed him. The strangest and most arbitrary things disappoint Bruce, but Alfred is more of a realist. He would always be there for me despite my failures.

"Are you happy?"

"Does that matter?"

"It matters to me."

I swirl my cup and become fascinated with its contents. It's a simple question, isn't it? A simple question with a simple answer.

_But nothing about this is simple. _

No answer. Can't come up with one that will fool Alfred. Unhappiness effuses every atom in my body. Lying would only make my unhappiness more evident. It would only make Alfred more upset.

"It hasn't been the same without you, you know," Alfred said. "Master Bruce is getting better now, I suppose, what with Jason and—"

"Jason? Jason who?"

"Jason Todd. Bruce caught the boy stealing the hubcaps off of the Batmobile."

A smile spreads across my face. Who would do a thing like that? Little punk. At the same time I feel my heart sinking. Did Bruce do what I thought he did?

"That's bold."

"To say the least." Alfred returns my smile. "He's more hot-headed than you. Well, before..."

He trails off. No matter how hard we try to avoid it, the conversation eventually slides back to Slade. His name is not spoken aloud, but it hangs over our heads like an ominous black cloud. A sip of tea warms me.

"So what about Jason?" I ask.

"Well, Master Bruce is working something out with the GCPD. Turns out that Jason is an orphan as well."

"Is he going to take my place?"

My voice, sharp and unexpected, punctures the air. Obviously surprised by my question, Alfred averts his eyes and shakes his head.

"As far as I know...I don't believe that is the case."

_You're not being replaced. _

What if Jason needed a home? What if he was like me? What if he could be my friend? Dismiss those thoughts, Grayson. You don't have any friends. Not anymore.

"Hopefully he'll turn out better than I did."

"Don't talk like that."

For a moment all I hear is the soft music playing in the background. The murmurs of costumers as they sweep by, completely unaware of this awkward encounter. It's amazing, really, when you think about it: a masked vigilante may walk by you and you will never know who is hiding under the mask. That's the beauty of it, I suppose.

"Please come home."

My guilty conscience would force me to bend to the law's will. Slade's training didn't rob me of all my conscience. He didn't force me to become someone I was not. That's not to say that he didn't come close—because he did.

"Did Bruce tell you what happened last night?"

"No, he did not."

"I killed a man."

Silence once again consumes us. I wait for a reaction—any kind of reaction—but Alfred sits there quietly. Contemplating. Judging. I can't tell.

"It was in self-defense," I say, avoiding his gaze, "if that matters to you."

"I didn't say anything."

How strange...to be sitting here peacefully, talking about murdering people in broad daylight. Part of me half-expected Slade to lecture me over the communicator. He certainly won't be happy when he finds out that I talked to Alfred.

"It was sort of an accident, but I—"

"That doesn't matter," Alfred says, catching my wrist, "we still love you."

"Even after everything?"

"Always."

Sudden tears clouded my vision. I didn't deserve this. I stand up, expecting Alfred to stand up with me in protest. But he stays there, unmoving.

"Aren't you going to try to stop me?"

"I care for you very much, Dick. You know that."

Out of love they would hunt me down. Out of love they would force me to turn back to the "right side." But right now I'm not sure whose side to be on. Did I have to choose a side? Are things so black-and-white?

"I have to go, Alfred."

It is so very difficult to let go. Thirteen months ago I convinced myself that the only way to save my friends was to let go of them. Slade didn't have to blackmail me to make me do that, though I suspect that he had a backup plan similar to that.

"Dick—"

I leave a generous tip for the barista, place my cap back on my head, and leave him. Alfred doesn't bother to chase me. Even amongst a crowd of people, of Gothamites, I still feel utterly alone. Wondering how many minutes I have before Batman is notified, I melt effortlessly into the writhing crowd.

Regret is an emotion I can't afford to feel right now. Perhaps one day I'll make a good decision. Maybe there is something better in my future...and if not then I'll make sure that Jason's future turns out better than mine. If there is anything I can console myself with, it is the fact that I now have the skills to destroy anyone who tries to hurt my former friends. Slade is right: love for someone you've cared for a long time erodes slowly. Like how his love for his wife (wringing the exact details out of him is an agonizing task) still haunts him, so the Bruce and Alfred and the Titans' will haunt me.

I disappear into the crowd and go my solitary way.

* * *

><p><strong>THE <strong>**END **

**A/N: **Gah, I'm real**l**y tired right now. Again, with big fics like this I ask that you list something you like, something you dislike and if you dislike something then tell me why you didn't like it. Also leave a suggestion on how I can be better.

I did need to get this out of the way because finals are nigh. The NS sequel will be posted in May (I haven't thought of a title yet) under the Batman and TT crossover category. Note that it is **not **an apprentice story (yes the events of NS are the backdrop but it features Dick as Batman.). I regret to inform you that I am not writing any more apprentice stories, but I am still writing fanfiction. I feel as though I have contributed enough to the fandom. However, I will still offer advice for apprentice stories.

I want to write other characters and other stories. Please check out the NS Sequel for characters I have hardly written before (fun fact: DC characters who are supposedly dead stay alive in this timeline XD). I am obtaining help for completing the Blorgthog Project. I cannot juggle two big fics this summer because I'm interning and completing summer homework.

Thank you for reading!

~Hanna Sedai


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